ia 


LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 

PRESENTED  BY 

Mr.    H.    H.    Kil iani 


LIBRARY 


V     x  ~Vj 

BAYARD    TAYLOR. 


Ethiopian. 


A  JOURNEY  TO  CENTRAL 
AFRICA 

OR 

LIFE   AND   LANDSCAPES  FROM    EGYPT  TO 

THE    NEGRO    KINGDOMS   OF 

THE  WHITE  NILE 


BY 
BAYARD   TAYLOR 


WITH     ILLUSTRATIONS    BY    THE    AUTHOR 


AUTHOR'S  REVISED  EDITION 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 

G.  P.  PUTNAM, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


COPYRIGHT, 

MABIE  TAYLOR, 

1883. 


Befcfcate5  to 
A.  B. 

OF  SAXE-COBURG-GOTHA 

BY 

HIS  FELLOW-TRAVELLER  IN  EGYPT 
B.    T. 


PREFACE. 


THERE  is  an  old  Italian  proverb,  which  says  a  man 
has  lived  to  no  purpose,  unless  he  has  either  built  a 
house,  begotten  a  son,  or  written  a  book  As  I  have 
already  complied  more  than  once  with  the  latter  of 
these  requisitions,  1  must  seek  to  justify  the  present 
repetition  thereof,  on  other  grounds.  My  reasons  for 
offering  this  volume  to  the  public  are,  simply,  that 
there  is  room  for  it.  It  is  the  record  of  a  journey  which 
led  me,  for  the  most  part,  over  fresh  fields,  by  paths 
which  comparatively  few  had  trodden  before  me.  Al- 
though I  cannot  hope  to  add  much  to  the  general 
stock  of  information  concerning  Central  Africa,  I  may 
serve,  at  least,  as  an  additional  witness,  to  confirm  or 
illustrate  the  evidence  of  others.  Hence,  the  prepara- 
tion of  this  work  has  appeared  to  me  rather  in  the  light 


PREFACE. 


of  a  duty  than  a  diversion,  and  I  have  endeavored  to 
impart  as  much  instruction  as  amusement  to  the 
reader.  While  seeking  to  give  correct  pictures  of  the 
rich,  adventurous  life  into  which  I  was  thrown,  I  have 
resisted  the  temptation  to  yield  myself  up  to  its  more 
subtle  and  poetic  aspects.  My  aim  has  been  to  furnish 
a  faithful  narrative  of  my  own  experience,  believing 
that  none  of  those  embellishments  which  the  imagina- 
tion so  readily  furnishes,  can  equal  the  charm  of  the 
unadorned  truth. 

There  are  a  few  words  of  further  explanation  which 
I  wish  to  say.  The  journey  was  undertaken  solely 
for  the  purpose  of  restoring  a  frame  exhausted  by 
severe  mental  labor.  A  previous  experience  of  a  tropi- 
cal climate  convinced  me  that  I  should  best  accomplish 
my  object  by  a  visit  to  Egypt,  and  as  I  had  a  whole 
winter  before  me,  I  determined  to  penetrate  as  far  into 
the  interior  of  Africa  as  the  time  would  allow,  attracted 
less  by  the  historical  and  geographical  interest  of  those 
regions  than  by  the  desire  to  participate  in  their  free, 
vigorous,  semi-barbaric  life.  If  it  had  been  my  inten- 
tion, as  some  of  my  friends  supposed,  to  search  for  the 
undiscovered  sources  of  the  White  Nile,  I  should  not 
have  turned  back,  until  the  aim  was  accomplished  or  all 
moans  had  failed. 

I  am  aware  that,  by  including  in  this  work  my 
journey  through  Egypt,  I  have  gone  over  much  ground 


PREFACE. 


which  is  already  familiar.  Egypt,  however,  was  the 
vestibule  tlir  wgh  which  I  passed  to  Ethiopia  and  the 
kingdoms  beyond,  and  I  have  not  been  able  to  omit  my 
impressions  of  that  country  without  detracting  from 
the  completeness  of  the  narrative.  This  book  is  the 
record  of  a  single  journey,  which,  both  in  its  character 
and  in  the  circumstances  that  suggested  and  accompa- 
nied it,  occupies  a  separate  place  in  my  memory.  Its 
performance  was  one  uninterrupted  enjoyment,  for, 
whatever  the  privations  to  which  it  exposed  me,  they 
were  neutralized  by  the  physical  delight  of  restored 
health  and  by  a  happy  confidence  in  the  successful 
issue  of  the  journey,  which  never  forsook  me.  It  is 
therefore  but  just  to  say,  that  the  pictures  I  have 
drawn  may  seem  over-bright  to  others  who  may  here- 
after follow  me  ;  and  I  should  warn  all  such  that  they 
must  expect  to  encounter  many  troubles  and  annoy- 
ances. 

Although  I  have  described  somewhat  minutely  the 
antiquities  of  Nubia  and  Ethiopia  which  I  visited,  and 
have  not  been  insensible  to  the  interest  which  every 
traveller  hi  Egypt  must  feel  in  the  remains  of  her 
ancient  art,  I  have  aimed  at  giving  representations  of 
the  living  races  which  inhabit  those  countries  rather 
than  the  old  ones  which  have  passed  away.  A  have 
taken  it  for  granted  that  the  reader  will  feel  more 
interested — as  I  was — in  a  live  Arab,  than  a  dead 


4  I'REFACR. 

Pharaoh.  I  ain  indebted  wholly  to  the  works  of  Cham- 
pollion,  Wilkinson  and  Lepsius  for  whatever  allusions  I 
have  made  to  the  age  and  character  of  the  Egyptian 

BT 

IUAUD.  *       *" 

N«w  YORK,  July,  1854 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  1 

irrt»».  at  Alexandria— TLe  binding— My  First  Oriental  Bath— The  City— Prepara- 
tion* for  Departure, .  ...  II 

CHAPTER  IL 

Departure— The  Kangia— Tho  Egyptian  Climate— The  Mahmondieh  Canal— Entrance 
into  the  Nile— Pleasures  of  the  Journey — Studying  Arabic — Sight  of  the  Pyramidi 
—The  Barrage — Approach  to  Cairo, SI 

CHAPTER  m. 

Entrance— The  Ezbekiyeh— Saracenic  Houses — Donkeys — Tho  Bazaars — The  Street* 
— Processions — View  from  the  Citadel — Mosque  of  Mohammed  All— The  Road  to 
Suez— The  Island  of  Rhoda, 94 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Necessity  of  Leaving  Immediately— Engaging  a  Boat— The  Dragomen — Achmet  e! 
Saidl — Funds— Information — Procuring  an  Outfit — Preparing  for  the  Desert — The 
Lucky  Day— Exertions  to  Leave — Off, 41 

CHAPTER  V. 

Howling  Dervishes— A  Chicken  Factory— Ride  to  the  Pyramids— Quarrel  with  the 
Arabs — The  Ascent— View  from  the  Summit— Backsheesh— Effect  of  Pyramid- 
cllnibing-The  Sphinx— Playing  the  Cadi— We  obtain  Justice— Visit  to  Sakkara 
and  t>e  Mummy  Pits — The  Exhumation  of  Memphis— Interview  with  M  Marietta 
-Account  of  his  Discoveries— Statue  of  Remeses  IL— Return  to  the  Kite.  .  H 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VL 

Leaving  the  Pyramids— A  Calm  and  a  Breeze— A  Coptic  Visit— Mlnyeh— Tin  (,  i 
of  Beni- Hassan — Doom  Palms  and  Crocodiles — Djebel  AboufayJa — Entrance  lute 
Upper  Egypt— Diversions  of  the  Boatmen— Si< rat  -Its  Tombs— A  Landscape—A 
Bath 71 

CHAPTER  VH. 

Independence  of  Nile  Life — The  Dahabiyeu — Our  Servants — Oar  Residence— Onr  Man- 
ner of  Living— The  Climate— The  Natives— Costume — Onr  Sunset  Repose—  My 
Friend — A  Sensuous  Life  Defended, .  89 

CHAPTER  VHL 

CWm — Mountains  and  Tombs — A  Night  Adventure  In  Ekhmln — Character  of  ch« 
Boatmen— Fair  Wind — Pilgrims — Egyptian  Agriculture— Sugar  and  Cotton— Gralu 
—Sheep — Arrival  at  Kenneh— A  Landscape— The  Temple  of  Dendcra— First  Im 
presskms  of  Egyptian  Art— Portrait  of  Cleopatra— A  Happy  Meeting — We  approach 
TiM&ea, 98 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Arrival  at  Thebes — Ground-Plan  of  the  Remains — We  Cross  to  the  Western  Bank- 
Guides— The  Temple  of  Qoorneh— Valley  of  the  Kings' Tombs— Belzoni's  Tomb— 
The  Races  of  Men->- Vandalism  of  Antiquarians— Brace's  Tomb — Memnon — The 
Grandfather  of  Sesostris — The  Head  of  Amunuph — The  Colossi  of  the  Plain — 
Memnonian  Music — The  Statue  of  Kemeees — The  Meuinoniiim  -Beauty  of  Egyp 
ti»n  Art — More  Scrambles  among  the  Tombs— The  Bats  of  the  Issasseef— Medee- 
net  Abon— Sculptured  Histories — The  Great  Court  of  the  Temple — We  return  tc 
Luxor,  118 

CHAPTER  X. 

Che  Dancing  Girls  of  Egypt— A  Night  Scet.e  Ii  Luxor— The  Onnge-Blossom  and  the 
Apple-Blossom— The  Beautiful  Bemba— The  Dance — Performance  of  the  Apple- 
Blossom— The  Temple  of  Luxor— A  Mohammedan  School— Gallop  tc  Karosk— 
View  of  the  Ruins— The  Great  Hall  of  Pillars— Bedouin  Diversions—  A  Nigh' 
Ride— Karnak  under  the  Full  Moon— Farewell  to  Thebes,  .  .  .181 

CHAPTER  XL 

the  Temple  of  Hermontia — E.«neh  Mid  its  Temple — The  Governor — El  Kab  by  Torn. 
tight — The  Temple  of  Edfou--The  Quarries  of  Djebel  SUslleh — Ombos— Approacl 
to  Nubia — Change  In  the  Scenery  and   Inhabitants — A   Mirage -Arrival   i 
noun, 141 

CHAPTER  XIL 

In  Official  Visit— Achmefs  Dext.-rii y— The  Wand  of  El«T>hantlne— Nubian  Children 
Trip  to  Pbil»— Linant  Bey-  -The  Wand   of  Phil»— Sculpture*- Th«  Negro  Bac»- 


CONTENTS. 


Breakfast  In  a  Ptolemal  j  Temple— The  Island  of  Biggfih— Backsheesh— The  CaUracI 
-  The  Granite  Quarries  of  Assouan— The  Travellers  separate,        ...       lib 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

ooiitary  Travel — Scenery  of  tho  Nubian  Nile — Agriculture — The  Inhabitants — Arriva 
at  Korosko — The  Governor  -The  Tent  Pitched— Shekh  Abon-Mohammed—  Bar- 
gaining for  Camels— A  Drove  of  Giraffes— Visits— Preparations  for  the  Deseit— My 
Last  Evening  on  the  Nile. 169 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Curve  of  the  Nile — Routes  across  the  Desert — Our  Caravan  starts — Riding  on  a 
Dromedary — The  Guide  and  Camel-drivers — Hair-dressing — El  Biban— Scenery — 
Dtart  Camels — An  Unexpected  Visit — The  Guide  makes  my  Grave — The  River 
without  Water— Characteristics  of  the  Mirage— Desert  Life— The  Sun— The  Desert 
Air —Infernal  Scenery — The  Wells  of  Murr-hiit — Christmas — Mountain  Chains— 
Meeting  Caravans— Plains  of  Gravel— The  Story  of  Joseph— Djebel  Mokrut— The 
Last  Day  in  the  Desert— We  see  the  Nile  again, 171 

CHAPTER  XV. 

&  Draught  of  Water—  Abou-IIammed— The  Island  of  Mokrat — Ethiopian  Scenery— 
The  People — An  Ababdeh  Apollo — Encampment  on  the  Nile — Tomb  of  an  English- 
man— Eesa's  Wedding— A  White  Arab — The  Last  Day  of  the  Year— Abou-Hashym 
—Incidents— Lo<s  of  my  Thermometer— The  Valley  of  Wild  Asses — The  Eleventh 
Cataract— Approach  to  Berber— Vultures— Eyoub  Outwitted— We  reach  El  Mek- 
heyref— The  Caravan  Broken  up, .  .  .  191 

CHAPTER  XVL 

A  Wedding— My  Reception  by  the  Military  Governor — Achmet — The  Bridegroom — A 
Guard— I  am  an  American  Bey— Keff— The  Bey's  Visit— The  Civil  Governor— 
About  the  Navy— The  Priest's  Visit— Riding  in  State— The  Dongolese  Stallion— A 
Merchant's  House  The  Town — Dinner  at  the  Governor's — The  Pains  of  Royalty— 
A  Salute  to  the  American  Flag — Departure, 20fl 

CHAPTER  XVIL 

Fortunate  Travel— The  America— Ethiopian  Scenery — The  Atbara  River—  Darner — A 
Melon  Patch— Agriculture— The  Inhabitants— Change  of  Scenery— The  First  Hip 
popotamns — Crocodiles — EftVi't  of  My  Map — The  Rais  and  Sailors — Arabs  in  Ethio- 
pia—Ornamental  Scars— Loshir— The  Slave  Bakhita— We  Approach  Meroe,  21'J 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Arrival  at  Bedjerowiyeh — The  Ruins  of  Meroe— Walk  Across  the  Plain — The  Pyra- 
mids—Character of  their  Masonry— The  Tower  and  Vault— Finding  of  the  Trea- 
sure— The  Second  Group — More  Ruins  Site  of  the  City— Number  of  the  Pyramid 
—The  Antiquity  of  MeroG— Ethiopian  and  Egyptian  Civilization— The  Caucasian 
Eao*  -Reflections,  90S 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  Landscapes  of  Ethiopia — My  Evenings  beside  the  Nil* — Experiences  of  Uie  An 
bUn  Nights— The  Story  of  the  Sultana  Zobeide  aud  the  Wood-cutter—  Chararf  el 
of  the  Arabian  Tales— Religion.  . 23i 


CHAPTER  XX. 

arrival  at  Shendy— Appearance  of  the  Town  Shendy  in  Former  Days — We  Tonch  at 
El  Metemma — The  Nile  beyond  Shendy— Flesh  Diet  vs.  Vegetables— We  Escapt 
Shipwreck— A  Walk  on  Shore— The  Rapids  of  Derreira— Djebel  Gerri— Th« 
Twelfth  Cataract— Night  In  the  Mountain  Gorge — Crocodiles — A  Drink  of  Mareesi 
— My  Birth-Day — Fair  Wind— Approach  to  Khartoum— The  Junction  of  the  Twa 
Nilee— Appearance  of  the  City— We  Drop  Anchor, 25? 


CHAPTER  XXL 

The  American  Flag — A  Rencontre — Search  for  a  House — The  Austrian  Consular  Agent 
— Description  of  his  Residence — The  Garden — The  Menagerie — Barbaric  Pomp 
an<?  State— Picturesque  Character  of  the  Society  of  Khartoum— Foundation  and 
Growth  of  the  City — Its  Appearance — The  Population—  Unhealthiness  of  the  Cli- 
mate— Assembly  of  Ethiopian  Chieftains— Visit  of  Two  Shekbs — Dinner  and  Fire- 
works,   276 

CHAPTER  XXIL 

Vtolt  to  the  Catholic  Mission— Dr.  Knoblecher,  the  Apostolic  Vicar— Monssa  Bey- 
Visit  to  Lattlf  Pasha— Reception— The  Pasha's  Palace— Lions— We  Dine  with  the 
Pasha — Ceremonies  upon  the  Occasion— Music — The  Guests — The  Franks  in  Khar- 
toum— Dr.  Peney — Visit  to  the  Sultana  Nasra — An  Ethiopian  Dinner — Charactei 
of  the  Sultana, 28C 

CHAPTER  XXIIL 

Recent  Explorations  of  Soudftn— Limit  of  the  Tropical  Rains — The  Conquest  of  Ethio- 
pia—Countries Tributary  to  Egypt— The  District  of  Takka— Expedition  of  Mousw 
Bey— The  Atbara  River— The  Abyssinian  Frontier— Christian  Ruins  of  Abou- 
Hun'iss — The  Kingdom  of  Sennaar— Kordofan — Dar-Fur— The  Princess  of  Dar- 
Fur  in  Khartoum— Her  Visit  to  Dr.  Reitz— The  Unknown  Countries  of  Central 
Africa,  2W 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Krcursions  around  Khartoum — A  Race  into  the  Desert — Euphorbia  Forest— The 
Banks  of  the  Bluj  Nile— A  Saint's  Grave— The  Confluence  of  the  Two  Niles-Mag- 
nitnde  of  the  Nile — Comparative  Sizex>f  the  Rivers — Their  Names— Desire  to  pene- 
trate further  into  Africa— Attractions  ..f  the  White  Nile— Engage  the  Boat  Joh.ii 
Ledyard — Former  Restrictions  arainst  exploring  the  Kiv«r— Visit  to  tbe  Pasha— 
Despotic  Hospitality— Achraet's  Ml-^vings— We  set  sail,  801 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Departure  frxn  Khartoum— We  enter  the  White  Nile — Mirage  and  Landscape— Th« 
Consul  returns — Progress — Loss  of  the  Flag— Scenery  of  the  Shores — Territory  ol 
t'.e  Hassaniyehs — Curious  Conjugal  Custom— Multitude*  of  Water  Fowls— Increas- 
ed Richness  of  Vegetation — A  pee — Sunset  on  the  White  Nile—  We  reach  the  King- 
dom of  tho  Shillcok  Negroes, 830 


CHAPTER  XXVL 

M  urnlng — Magnificence  of  the  Island  Scenery — Birds  and  Hippopotami — Flight  of  the 
Natives — The  Island  of  Aba— Signs  of  Population-  A  Band  of  Warriors— Tho  Shekb 
and  the  Sultan— A  Treaty  of  Peace— The  Robe  of  Honor— Sutpiclons— We  walk  to 
the  Village — Appearance  of  the  Shillooks— The  Village — The  Sultan  gives  Audience 
— Women  and  Children — Ornaments  of  the  Natives — My  Watch — A  Jar  of  Honey — 
Suspicion  and  Alarm— The  Sliillook  and  the  Sultan's  Black  Wife— Character  of  the 
Shillooks— The  Land  of  the  Lotus— Population  of  the  Sbillook.  Kingdom— The  Turn- 
Ing  Point— A  View  from  the  Mast-Head, 829 


CHAPTER  XXVIL 

Explorations  of  the  White  Nile— Dr.  Kn^blecher's  Voyage  in  1849-60 — The  Lands 
of  the  Shillooks  and  Dinkas— Intercourse  with  the  Natives— Wild  Elephant*  and 
Giraffes— The  Sobat  River— The  Country  of  Marshes— The  Gazelle  Lake— The 
Nuebrs — Interview  with  the  Chief  of  the  Kyks— The  Zhir  Country — Land  of  the 
Baris— Tho  Rapids  Surmounted— Arrival  at  Logwek,  in  Lat  43  10  North  -Panora- 
ma from  Mt,  Logwek— Sources  of  the  \Vliito  Nile— Character  of  the  Ban  Nation- 
Return  of  the  Expedition— Fascination  of  the  Nile,  84C 


CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

We  leave  the  Islands  of  the  Shillooks — Tropical  Jungles— A  Whim  and  its  Consequen 
ces— Lairs  of  Wild  Beast* — Arrival  among  the  Ilassaniyel.s — A  Village — The  Wo- 
man and  the  Sultan — A  Dance  of  Salutation — My  Arab  Sailor — A  Swarthy  Cleopa- 
tra— Salutation  of  the  Saint — Miraculous  Fishing — Night  View  of  a  Hassaniyeh  Vil- 
lage—Wad Shellayeh  — A  Shckh's  Residence— An  Ebony  Cherub— The  Cook  At- 
tempts Suicide — Evening  Landscape — The  Natives  and  their  Cattle — A  Boyish 
Governor — We  reach  Khartoum  fit  Midnight,  ......  854 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Pbe  Departure  of  Abd-el  Kader  Bey — An  Illuminated  Picture — The  Breakfast  on  the 
Island — Horsemanship — The  Pasha's  Stork's — Departure  of  Lattif  Efendl's  Expedi- 
tion— A  Night  on  the  Sand— Abini-Sin.  and  his  Shiikoree  Warriors— Change  in  the 
Climate — Intense  Heat  and  its  KtlVvts—  Preparations  for  Returning— A  Monej 
Transaction— Farewell  Visits— A  Dinner  with  Royal  Guests— Jolly  King  Dyaab— 
A  ShiUook  Dance— Reconciliation— Taking  Leave  of  uiy  Peta,  ...  811 


10  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

The  Commerce  of  Soudai.— Avenues  of  Trade— The  Merchants-  -Character  of  tlit  Im 
ports-  -Speculation — The  Gum  Trade  of  Kordofan— The  Ivory  Trade — Abuses  of  UN 
Government— The  Traffic  in  Slaves— Prices  of  Slaves— Their  Treatment,  .  88-1 

CHAPTER  XXXL 

V<irewell  Breakfast— Departure  from  Khartoum— Parting  with  Dr.  Reltz — A  Predic- 
tion and  Its  Fulfilment — Dreary  Appearance  of  the  Country — Lions— Burying- 
Grounds— The  Natives— My  Kababish  Guide,  Mohammed— Character  of  the  Arabs 
—Habits  of  Deception — My  Dromedary— Mutton  and  Mareesa — A  Soudan  Ditty— 
The  Rowyan— Akaba  Gerri— Heat  and  Scenery — An  Altercation  with  the  Guide  - 
A  Mishap — A  Landscape — Tedious  Approach  to  El  Metemma — Appearance  of  the 
Town— Preparations  for  the  Desert — Meeting  Old  Acquaintances,  .  .  892 

CHAPTER  XXXIL 

Entering  the  Desert— Character  of  the  Scenery— Wells— Fear  of  the  Arabs — The  La- 
loom  Tree — Effect  of  the  Hot  Wind— Mohammed  overtakes  us — Arab  Endurance — 
An  unpleasant  Bedfellow— Comedy  of  the  Crows— Gazelles— We  encounter  a  Sand- 
storm—The  Mountain  of  Thirst— The  Wells  of  Djeekdnd— A  Mountain  Pass- 
Desert  Intoxication— Scenery  of  the  Table-land— Bir  Khannlk— The  Kabnbisb 
Arabs— Gazelles  again— Ruins  of  an  Ancient  Coptic  Monastery—  Distant  View  of  the 
Nile  Valley— Djebel  Berkel— We  come  into  Port, 4<i6 

CHAPTER  XXXIIL 

Dor  whereabouts— Shekh  Mohammed  Abd  e'-Djebil— My  residence  at  Abdom — Cross- 
ing the  River — A  Superb  Landscape — The  Town  of  Merawe — Rido  to  Djebel  Berkel 
— The  Temples  of  Napata— Ascent  of  the  Mountain — Ethiopian  Panorama— Lost 
and  Found — The  Pyramids— The  Governor  of  Merawe — A  Scene  in  the  Divan— 
The  Shekh  and  I— The  Governor  Dines  with  me— Ruing  of  the  City  of  Napata— 
A  Talk  about  Religious— Engaging  Camels  for  Wadi-Halfa— The  Shekh's  Parting 
Blessing, 421 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Appearance  of  the  Country— Korti — The  Town  of  Ambukol — The  Caravan  reorgan- 
ized— A  Fiery  Ride — We  reach  Edahbe — An  Illuminated  Landscape — A  Torment 
— Nubian  Agriculture— Old  Dongola— The  Palace-Mosque  of  the  Nubian  Kings — A 
Panorama  of  Desolation— The  Old  City— Nubian  Gratitude — Another  Sand-Storm 
— A  Dreary  Journey — The  Approach  to  Handak — A  House  of  Doubtful  Character — 
The  Inmates— Journey  to  El  Ordee  (New  Dongola) — Khoorshld  Bey — Appearance 
of  the  Town. 434 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

We  start  for  Wadl- Haifa— The  Plague  of  Black  Gnats— Mohammed's  Coffin- -Th< 
Island  of  Argo- Market-Day-- Sivm-ry  of  the  Nile— Entering  Dar  El-Mahas»- 


CONTENTS.  11 


Ruined  Fortresses — The  Camel-Men— A  Rocky  Chaos— Fakir  Bender— The  Akabt 
of  Miiliass— Catnp  in  the  Wilderness — The  Charm  of  Desolation — Tho  Nile  again— 
Pilgrims  from  Dar-Fur — The  Struggle  of  the  Nile — An  Arcadian  Landscape— Tin 
Temple  of  Soleb— Dar  Sukkot—  The  Land  of  Dates— The  Island  of  Sal— A  Sea  <M 
8«nd— Camp  by  the  Rivor — A  Hyena  Barbecue, 45T 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

("be  Batn  El-Hadjar,  or  Belly  of  Stone— Ancient  Granite  Quarries — The  Villnee  rt 
Dil— A  Ruined  Fortress— A  Wilderness  of  Stones— The  Hot  Springs  of  Ukme—  A 
Windy  Night— A  Dreary  Day  In  the  Desert— The  Shckh's  Camel  Fails— Descent  to 
Satnneh— The  Temple  and  Cataract—  Meersheh— The  Sale  of  Abou-Sin— We 
Etnerse  from  the  Belly  of  Stone—  \  Kababish  Caravnn— The  Rock  of  Abon-Seer— 
View  of  Die  Second  Cataract— We  reach  Wadi-Halfa— Selling  my  Dromedaries- 
Farewell  to  Abou-Sin — Thanksgiving  on  the  Ferry-boat— Parting  with  the  Camel 
men, 471 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Wadi  Haifa— A  Boat  for  Assouan— We  Embark  on  the  Nile  Again— An  Kgyptian 
Dream— The  Temples  of  Abou-Simbel— The  Smaller  Temple— The  Colossi  ol 
Hemeses  II.— Vulgarity  of  Travellers — Entering  the  Great  Temple— My  Impres- 
sions—Character of  Abou  Simbel— The  Smaller  Chambers — The  Races  of  Men— 
Remeses  and  the  Captive  Kings— Departure, 484 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

I  Lose  my  Sunshine,  and  Regain  it— Nubian  Scenery— Derr — The  Temple  of  Amada 
—Mysterious  Rapping*— Familiar  Scenes— Halt  at  Korosko— Escape  from  Ship- 
wreck—The Temple  of  Sebooa— Chasing  other  Boats— Temple  of  Djerf  Hossayn— 
A  Backsheesh  Experiment— Kalabshee— Temple  of  Dabod— We  reach  the  Egyp- 
tian Frontier, 496 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Assouan — A  Boat  for  Cairo — English  Tourists — A  Head-wind — Ophthalmia — Esneh — 
A  Mummied  Princess — All  Kflendi's  Stories — A  Donkey  Afrite — Arrival  at  Luxor 
— Tho  Egyptian  Autumn — A  Day  at  Thebes — Songs  of  the  Sailors — AH  leave* 
mo— Ride  to  Dendera— Head-winds  again— Vfoit  to  Tautah— The  House  of  Rufaa 
Bey, 504 

CHAPTER  XL. 

Itont  in  Harvest-time— A  kind  Englishwoman — A  Slight  Experience  of  Hasheesn- 
The  Calm— Rapid  Progress  down  the  Nile— The  Last  Day  of  the  Voyage— Arri 
val  at  Cairo — Tourists  preparing  for  the  Desert— Parting  with  Achmct — Co-aclo 
•ton,  517 


JOURNEY  TO  CENTRAL  AFRICA 


CHAPTER    I. 

INTRODUCTION     TO     AFRICA. 

Arrival  at  Alexandria— The  Landing— My  First  Oriental  Bath— The  City— Prepan 
lions  for  Departure. 

I  LEFT  Smyrna  in  the  Lloyd  steamer,  Conte  Stunner,  on  the 
tirst  day  of  November,  1851.  We  passed  the  blue  Sporadic 
Isles — Cos,  and  Rhodes,  and  Karpathos — and  crossing  the 
breadth  of  the  Eastern  Mediterranean,  favored  all  the  way  by 
unruffled  seas,  and  skies  of  perfect  azure,  made  the  pharos  of 
Alexandria  on  the  evening  of  the  3d.  The  entrance  to  the 
harbor  is  a  narrow  and  difficult  passage  through  reefs,  and  no 
vessel  dares  to  attempt  it  at  night,  but  with  the  first  streak  of 
dawn  we  were  boarded  by  an  Egyptian  pilot,  and  the  rising 
sun  lighted  up  for  us  the  white  walls  of  the  city,  the  windmills 
of  the  Ras  el-Tin,  or  Cape  of  Figs,  and  the  low  yellow  sand- 
hills in  .which  I  recognized  Africa — for  they  were  prophetic  of 
the  desert  behind  them. 

We  entered  the  old  harbor  between  the  island  of  Pha/- 
FOB  and  the  main  land  (now  connected  by  a  peninsular  strip, 
pn  which  the  Frank  quarter  is  built),  soon  after  sunrise, 


14  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

The  water  swarmed  with  boats  before  the  anchoi  dropped, 
and  the  Egyptian  health  officer  had  no  sooner  departed 
than  we  were  boarded  by  a  crowd  of  dragomen,  hotel  run- 
ners, and  boatmen.  A  squinting  Arab,  who  wore  a  white 
dress  and  red  sash,  accosted  me  in  Italian,  offering  to  condud 
me  to  the  Oriental  Hotel.  A  German  and  a  Smyrniote 
whose  acquaintance  I  had  made  during  the  voyage,  joined  me 
in  accepting  his  services,  and  we  were  speedily  boated  ashore. 
We  landed  on  a  pile  of  stones,  not  far  from  a  mean-looking 
edifice  called  the  Custom-House.  Many  friends  were  there  to 
welcome  us,  and  I  shall  never  forget  the  eagerness  with  which 
they  dragged  us  ashore,  and  the  zeal  with  which  they  pom- 
melled one  another  in  their  generous  efforts  to  take  charge  of 
our  effects.  True,  we  could  have  wished  that  their  faces  had 
been  better  washed,  their  baggy  trousers  less  ragged  and  their 
red  caps  less  greasy,  and  we  were  perhaps  ungrateful  in  allow- 
ing our  Arab  to  rate  them  soundly  and  cuff  the  ears  of  the 
more  obstreperous,  before  our  trunks  and  carpet-bags  could  be 
portioned  among  them.  At  the  Custom-House  we  were  visit- 
ed by  two  dark  gentlemen,  in  turbans  and  black  flowing  robes, 
who  passed  our  baggage  without  scrutiny,  gently  whispering 
in  our  ears,  "  bacTtsheesh" — a  word  which  we  then  heard  for 
the  first  time,  but  which  was  to  be  the  key-note  of  much  of  our 
future  experience.  The  procession  of  porters  was  then  set  in 
motion,  and  we  passed  through  several  streets  of  whitewashed 
two  story  houses,  to  the  great  square  of  the  Frank  quarter, 
which  opened  before  us  warm  and  brilliant  in  the  morning  sun- 
shine. 

The  principal  hotels  and  consulates  front  on  this  square 
The  architecture  is  Italian,  with  here  and  there  a  dash  of  Sar 


ALEXANDRIA.  15 

fcoenio,  in  the  windows  and  doorways,  especially  in  new  build- 
ings. A  small  obelisk  of  alabaster,  a  present  from  Mohammed 
Ali,  stands  in  the  centre,  on  a  pedestal  which  was  meant  for  a 
fountain,  but  has  no  water.  All  this  I  noted,  as  well  as  a 
crowd  of  donkeys  and  donkey-boys,  and  a  string  of  laden 
camels,  on  our  way  to  the  hotel,  which  we  found  to  be  a  long 
and  not  particularly  clean  edifice,  on  the  northern  side  of  the 
square.  The  English  and  French  steamers  had  just  arrived, 
and  no  rooms  were  to  be  had  until  after  the  departure  of  the 
afternoon  boat  for  Cairo.  Our  dragoman,  who  called  himself 
Ibrahim,  suggested  a  bath  as  the  most  agreeable  means  of 
passing  the  intermediate  time. 

The  clear  sky,  the  temperature  (like  that  of  a  mild  July 
day  at  home),  and  the  novel  interest  of  the  groups  in  the 
utreets,  were  sufficient  to  compensate  for  any  annoyance :  but 
when  we  reached  the  square  of  the  French  Church,  and  saw  a 
garden  of  palm-trees  waving  their  coronals  of  glittering  leaves 
every  thing  else  was  forgotten.  My  German  friend,  who  had 
never  seen  palms,  except  as  starveling  exotics  in  Sorrento  anc 
Smyrna,  lifted  his  hands  in  rapture,  and  even  I,  who  had 
heard  tens  of  thousands  rustle  in  the  hot  winds  of  the  Tropics, 
felt  my  heart  leap  as  if  their  beauty  were  equally  new  to  my 
eyes.  For  no  amount  of  experience  can  deprive  the  traveller 
of  that  happy  feeling  of  novelty  which  marks  his  first  day  on 
the  soil  of  a  new  continent.  I  gave  myself  up  wholly  to  ita 
inebriation.  Et  ego  in  Africa,  was  the  sum  of  my  thoughts, 
and  I  neither  saw  nor  cared  .to  know  the  fact  (which  we  dis^ 
covered  in  due  time),  that  our  friend  Ibrahim  was  an  arranl 
knave. 

The  bath  to  which  he  conducted  us  was  pronounced   to   bo 


i6  JOURNEY   TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

the  finest  in  Alexandria,  the  most  superb  in  all  the  Orient, 
but  it  did  not  at  all  accord  with  our  ideas  of  Eastern  luxury. 
Moreover,  the  bath-keeper  was  his  intimate  friend,  and  would 
bathe  us  as  no  Christians  were  ever  bathed  before.  One  fact 
Ibrahim  kept  to  himself,  which  was,  that  his  intimate  friend 
and  he  shared  the  spoils  of  our  inexperience.  We  were  con- 
ducted to  a  one-story  building,  of  very  unprepossessing  exte- 
rior. As  we  entered  the  low,  vaulted  entrance,  my  ears  were 
saluted  with  a  dolorous,  groaning  sound,  which  I  at  first  con- 
jectured to  proceed  from  the  persons  undergoing  the  opera- 
tion, but  which  I  afterward  ascertained  was  made  by  a  wheel 
turned  by  a  buffalo,  employed  in  raising  water  from  the  well. 
In  a  sort  of  basement  hall,  smelling  of  soap-suds,  and  with  a 
large  tank  of  dirty  water  in  the  centre,  we  were  received  by 
the  bath-keeper,  who  showed  us  into  a  room  containing  three 
low  divans  with  pillows.  Here  we  disrobed,  and  Ibrahim, 
who  had  procured  a  quantity  of  napkins,  enveloped  our  heads 
in  turbans  and  swathed  our  loins  in  a  simple  Adamite  gar- 
ment. Heavy  wooden  clogs  were  attached  to  our  feet,  and  an 
animated  bronze  statue  led  the  way  through  gloomy  passages, 
sometimes  hot  and  steamy,  sometimes  cold  and  soapy,  and 
redolent  of  any  thing  but  the  spicy  odors  of  Araby  the  Blest, 
to  a  small  vaulted  chamber,  lighted  by  a  few  apertures  in  the 
ceiling.  The  moist  heat  was  almost  suffocating ;  hot  water 
flowed  over  the  stone  floor,  and  the  stone  benches  we  sat  upon 
were  somewhat  cooler  than  kitchen  stoves.  The  bronze  indi 
ridual  left  us,  and  very  soon,  sweating  at  every  pore,  we  began 
to  think  of  the  three  Hebrews  in  the  furnace.  Our  comfort 
was  not  increased  by  the  groaning  sound  which  we  still  heard, 
and  by  seeing,  through  a  hole  in  the  door,  five  or  six  naked 


ITS    FIRST    ORIENTAL    BATH.  ll 

dgures  lying  motionless  along  the  edge  of  a  steaming  vat,  in 
the  outer  room. 

Presently  our  statue  returned  with  a  pair  of  coarse  hair 
gloves  on  his  hands.  He  snatched  off  our  turbans,  and  then, 
seizing  one  of  my  friends  by  the  shoulder  as  if  he  had  been  a 
sheep,  began  a  sort  of  rasping  operation  upon  his  back.  Thie 
process,  varied  occasionally  by  a  dash  of  scalding  water,  was 
extended  to  each  of  our  three  bodies,  and  we  were  then  suf- 
fered to  rest  awhile.  A  course  of  soap-suds  followed,  which 
was  softer  and  more  pleasant  in  its  effect,  except  when  he  took 
us  by  the  hair,  and  holding  back  our  heads,  scrubbed  our  faces 
most  lustily,  as  if  there  were  no  such  things  as  eyes,  noses  and 
mouths.  By  this  time  we  had  reached  such  a  salamandrine 
temperature  that  the  final  operation  of  a  dozen  pailfuls  of  hot 
water  poured  over  the  head,  was  really  delightful  After  a 
plunge  in  a  seething  tank,  we  were  led  back  to  our  chamber 
and  enveloped  in  loose  muslin  robes.  Turbans  were  bound  on 
our  heads  and  we  lay  on  the  divans  to  recover  from  the  lan- 
guor of  the  bath.  The  change  produced  by  our  new  costume 
was  astonishing.  The  stout  German  became  a  Turkish  mol- 
lah,  the  young  Smyrniote  a  picturesque  Persian,  and  I — I 
scarcely  know  what,  but,  as  my  friends  assured  me,  a  much 
better  Moslem  than  Frank.  Cups  of  black  coffee,  and  pipes 
of  inferior  tobacco  completed  the  process,  and  in  spite  of  the 
lack  of  cleanliness  and  superabundance  of  fleas,  we  went  forth 
lighter  in  body,  and  filled  with  a  calm  content  which  nothing 
seemed  able  to  disturb. 

After  a  late  breakfast  at  the  hotel,  we  sallied  out  for  a  sur- 
vey of  the  city.  The  door  was  beleaguered  by  the  donkeys 
aud  their  attendant  drivers,  who  hailed  us  in  all  language*  at 


18  JOtTRlTET   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

once  "  Venez,  Monsieur  !  "  "  Take  a  ride,  sir ;  here  is  a 
good  donkey  !  "  "  Schcener  Esel !  "  "  Prendete  il  mio  bur- 
rico  I  " — and  you  are  made  the  vortex  of  a  whirlpool  of  don- 
keys. The  one-eyed  donkey-boys  fight,  the  donkeys  kick,  and 
there  is  no  rest  till  you  have  bestridden  one  of  the  little 
beasts.  The  driver  then  gives  his  tail  a  twist  and  his  rump  a 
thwack,  and  you  are  carried  off  in  triumph.  The  animal  is  so 
small  that  you  seem  the  more  silly  of  the  two,  when  you  have 
mounted,  but  after  he  has  carried  you  for  an  hour  in  a  rapid 
gallop,  you  recover  your  dignity  in  your  respect  for  him. 

The  spotless  blue  of  the  sky  and  the  delicious  elasticity  of 
the  air  were  truly  intoxicating,  as  we  galloped  between  gar- 
dens of  date-trees,  laden  with  ripe  fruit,  to  the  city  gate,  and 
through  it  into  a  broad  road,  fringed  with  acacias,  leading  to 
the  Mahmoudieh  canaL  But  to  the  south,  on  a  rise  of  dry, 
sandy  soil,  stood  the  Pillar  of  Diocletian — not  of  Pompcy, 
whose  name  it  bears.  It  is  a  simple  column,  ninety-eight  feet 
in  height,  but  the  shaft  is  a  single  block  of  red  granite,  and 
stands  superbly  against  the  back-ground  of  such  a  sky  and 
such  a  sea.  It  is  the  only  relic  of  the  ancient  Alexandria 
worthy  of  its  fame,  but  you  could  not  wish  for  one  more  im- 
posing and  eloquent.  The  glowing  white  houses  of  the  town, 
the  minarets,  the  palms  and  the  acacias  fill  the  landscape,  but 
it  stands  apart  from  them,  in  the  sand,  and  looks  only  to  the 
•ea  and  the  desert. 

In  the  evening  we  took  donkeys  again  and  rode  out  of  the 
town  to  a  cafe  on  the  banks  of  the  canaL  A  sunset  of  burn- 
ing rose  and  orange  sank  over  the  desert  behind  Pompey's 
Pillar,  and  the  balmiest  of  breezes  stole  towards  us  from  the 
sea,  through  palm  gardens.  A  Swiss  gentleman,  M.  de  Gon- 


THE    DONKET-BOT.  1$ 

ienl>ach,  whose  kindness  I  shall  always  gratefully  remember 
accompanied  us.  As  we  sat  under  the  acacias,  sipping  the 
black  Turkish  coffee,  the  steamer  for  Cairo  passed,  disturbing 
the  serenity  of  the  air  with  its  foul  smoke,  and  marring  the 
delicious  repose  of  the  landscape  in  such  wise,  that  we  vowed 
we  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  steam  so  long  as  we  voyaged 
on  the  Nile.  Our  donkey-drivers  patiently  held  the  bridles 
of  our  long-eared  chargers  til)  we  were  ready  to  return.  It 
was  dark,  and  not  seeing  at  first  my  attendant,  a  little  one- 
eyed  imp,  I  called  at  random  :  "  Abdallah  ! "  This,  it  hap 
pened,  was  actually  his  name,  and  he  came  trotting  up,  hold- 
ing the  stirrup  ready  for  me  to  mount.  The  quickness  with 
which  these  young  Arabs  pick  up  languages,  is  truly  astonish- 
ing. "  Came  vi  chiamate  ?  "  (what's  yorfr  name  ?)  I  asked 
of  Abdallah,  as  we  rode  homeward.  The  words  were  new  to 
him,  but  I  finally  made  him  understand  their  meaning,  where- 
upon he  put  his  knowledge  into  practice  by  asking  me :  "  Come 
vi  chiamate?"  "Abbas  Pasha,"  I  replied.  "Oh,  well," 
was  his  prompt  rejoinder,  "  if  you  are  Abbas  Pasha,  then  I  am 
Seyd  Pasha."  The  next  morning  he  was  at  the  door  with  his 
donkey,  which  I  fully  intended  to  mount,  but  became  entan- 
gled in  a  wilderness,  of  donkeys,  out  of  which  Ibrahim  extri- 
cated me  by  hoisting  me  on  another  animal.  As  I  rode  away, 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  little  fellow,  crying  lustily  over  hi* 
lisappointnient. 

We  three  chance  companions  fraternized  so  agreeably  that 
we  determined  to  hire  a  boat  for  Cairo,  in  preference  to  waiting 
for  the  next  steamer.  We  accordingly  rode  over  to  the  Man- 
moudieh  Canal,  accompanied  by  Ibrahim,  to  inspect  the  barks. 
Like  all  dragomen.  Ibrahim  had  his  private  preferences,  and 


20  JOURNEY    IN    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

conducted  us  on  board  a  boat  belonging  to  a  friend  of  his,  • 
grizzly  rais,  or  captain.  The  craft  was  a  small  kangia  with 
a  large  lateen  sail  at  the  bow  and  a  little  one  at  the  stern.  It 
was  not  very  new,  but  looked  clean,  and  the  rais  demanded 
three  hundred  piastres  for  the  voyage.  The  piastre  is  the  cur- 
rent coin  of  the  East.  Its  value  is  fluctuating,  and  always 
higher  in  Egypt  than  in  Syria  and  Turkey,  but  may  be  assum- 
ed at  about  five  cents,  or  twenty  to  the  American  dollar.  Be- 
fore closing  the  bargain,  we  asked  the  advice  of  M.  de  Gon- 
aenbach,  who  immediately  despatched  his  Egyptian  servant 
and  engaged  a  boat  at  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  piastres. 
Every  thing  was  to  be  in  readiness  for  our  departure  on  the 
following  evening. 


VOYAGE    ON    THE    NILB  '21 


CHAPTBB    II. 

FIRST      VOYAGE      ON      THE      NILE. 

Dwpartnre— The  Kangtn— The  Egyptian  Climate— The  Mahmondieh  Canal— Entrance 
Into  the  Nile — Pleasures  of  the  Journey—  Studying  Arabic — Sight  of  the  Pyramid 
—The  Barrage— Approach  to  Cairo. 

WE  paid  a  most  exorbitant  bill  at  the  Oriental  Hotel,  and 
'started  on  donkeyback  for  our  boat,  at  sunset.  Our  prepara 
tions  for  the  voyage  consisted  of  bread,  rice,  coffee,  sugar,  but- 
ter and  a  few  other  comestibles ;  an  earthen  furnace  and  char- 
coal; pots  and  stew-pans,  plates,  knives  and  forks,  wooden 
gpoons,  coffee-cups  and  water-jars ;  three  large  mats  of  cane- 
leaves,  for  bedding ;  and  for  luxuries,  a  few  bottles  of  claret, 
and  a  gazelle-skin  stuffed  with  choice  Latakieh  tobacco.  We 
ffere  prudent  enough  to  take  a  supper  with  us  from  the  hotel, 
and  not  trust  to  our  own  cooking  the  first  night  on  board. 

We  waited  till  dark  on  the  banks  of  the  Canal  before  our 
baggage  appeared.  There  is  a  Custom-House  on  all  sides  of 
Alexandria,  and  goods  going  out  must  pay  as  well  as  goods  com- 
ing in.  The  gate  was  closed,  and  nothing  less  than  the  silver 
oil  of  a  dollar  greased  its  hinges  sufficiently  for  our  cart  to  pass 
through.  But  what  was  our  surprise  on  reaching  the  boat,  tc 
find  the  same  kangia  and  the  same  grizzly  raifs,  who  had  pre- 
viously demanded  three  hundred  piastres  He  seemed  no  lea* 


22  JOURNEY   IN   CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

astonished  than  we,  for  the  bargain  had  been  made  by  a  third 
party,  and  I  believe  he  bore  us  a  grudge  during  the  rest  of  the 
voyage.  The  contract  placed  the  boat  at  our  disposition ;  so 
we  went  on  board  immediately,  bade  adieu  to  the  kind  frienda 
who  had  accompanied  us,  and  were  rowed  down  the  Canal  in 
the  full  glow  of  African  moonlight. 

Some  account  of  our  vessel  and  crew  will  not  be  out  of 
place  here.  The  boat  was  about  thirty-five  feet  in  length,  with 
a  short  upright  mast  in  the  bow,  supporting  a  lateen  sail  fifty 
feet  long.  Against  the  mast  stood  a  square  wooden  box,  lined 
with  clay,  which  served  as  a  fireplace  for  cooking.  The  mid- 
dle boards  of  the  deck  were  loose  and  allowed  entrance  to  the 
hold,  where  our  baggage  was  stowed.  The  sailors  also  lifted 
them  and  sat  on  the  cross-beams,  with  their  feet  on  the  shal- 
low keel,  when  they  used  the  oars.  The  cabin,  which  occu- 
pied the  stern  of  the  boat,  was  built  above  and  below  the  deck, 
go  that  after  stepping  down  into  it  we  could  stand  upright 
The  first  compartment  contained  two  broad  benches,  with  a 
smaller  chamber  in  the  rear,  allowing  just  enough  room,  in  all, 
for  three  persons  to  sleep.  We  spread  oir  mats  on  the 
boards,  placed  carpet-bags  for  pillows  (first  taking  out  the 
books),  and  our  beds  were  made.  Ibrahim  slept  on  the  deck, 
against  the  cabin-door. 

Our  rais,  or  captain,  was  an  old  Arab,  with  a  black,  wrink- 
led face,  a  grizzly  beard  and  a  tattered  blue  robe.  There  were 
five  sailors — one  with  crooked  eyes,  one  with  a  moustache,  two 
copper-colored  Fellahs,  and  one  tall  Nubian,  black  as  the 
Egyptian  darkness.  The  three  latter  were  our  favorites,  and 
more  cheerful  and  faithful  creatures  I  never  saw.  One  of  th« 
Fellahs  sang  nasal  love-songs  the  whole  day  long,  and  was  al 


SVKNINO    ON    THE    CANAL.  23 

ways  foremost  in  the  everlasting  refrain  of  "  haylee-sdh  1 "  and 
"ya  salaam/"  with  which  the  Egyptian  Bailors  row  and  tow 
and  pole  their  boats  against  the  current.  Before  we  left  the 
boat  we  had  acquired  a  kind  of  affection  for  these  three  men 
*hile  the  rais,  with  his  grim  face  and  croaking  voice,  grew  more 
repulsive  every  day. 

W^e  spread  a  mat  on  the  deck,  lighted  our  lantern  and  sat 
down  to  supper,  while  a  gentle  north  wind  slowly  carried  OUT 
boat  along  through  shadows  of  palms  and  clear  spaces  of  moon- 
light. Ibrahim  filled  the  shebooks,  and  for  four  hours  we  sat 
in  the  open  air,  which  seemed  to  grow  sweeter  and  purer  witlj 
every  breath  we  inhaled.  We  were  a  triad — the  sacred  num- 
ber— and  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  find  another  triad  so 
harmonious  aid  yet  differing  so  strongly  in  its  parts.  One 
was  a  Landwirth  from  Saxe-Coburg,  a  man  of  forty-five,  tall, 
yet  portly  in  person,  and  accustomed  to  the  most  comfortable 
living  and  the  best  society  in  Germany.  Another  was  a  Smyr- 
niote  merchant,  a  young  man  of  thirty,  to  whom  all  parts  of 
Europe  were  familiar,  who  spoke  eight  languages,  and  who 
within  four  months  had  visited  Ispahan  and  the  Caucasus.  Of 
the  third  it  behooves  me  not  to  speak,  save  that  he  was  from 
the  New  World,  and  that  he  differed  entirely  from  his  friends 
in  stature,  features,  station  in  life,  and  every  thing  else  but  mu- 
tual goodfellowship.  "  Ah,"  said  the  German  in  the  fulness 
of  his  heart,  as  we  basked  in  the  moonlight,  "  what  a  heavenly 
air !  what  beautiful  palms  !  and  this  wonderful  repose  in  all 
Nature,  which  I  never  felt  before  !"  "  It  is  better  than  the 
gardens  of  Ispahan,"  added  the  Smyrniote.  Nor  did  I  deceiva 
them  when  I  said  that  for  many  months  past  I  had  known  no 
mood  of  mind  so  peaceful  and  grateful. 


24  IOUKNKY   IN   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

We  rosfl  somewhat  stiff  from  our  hard  beds,  but  a  cup  of 
coffee  and  the  fresh  morning  air  restored  the  amenity  of  th« 
voyage  The  banks  of  the  Canal  are  flat  and  dull,  and  the 
country  through  which  we  passed,  after  leaving  the  marshy 
brink  of  Lake  Mareotis,  was  in  many  places  still  too  wet  frore 
the  recent  inundation  to  be  ploughed  for  the  winter  crops.  It  is 
a  dead  level  of  rich  black  loam,  and  produces  rice,  maize,  sugar- 
cane and  millet.  Here  and  there  the  sand  has  blown  over  it, 
and  large  spaces  are  given  up  to  a  sort  of  coarse,  wiry  grass 
The  villages  are  miserable  collections  of  mud  hats,  but  the 
date-palms  which  shadow  them  and  the  strings  of  camels  that 
slowly  pass  to  and  fro,  render  even  their  unsightliness  pictu 
resque.  In  two  or  three  places  we  passed  mud  machines,  driven 
by  steam,  for  the  purpose  of  cleaning  the  CanaL  Ropes  were 
stretched  across  the  channel  on  both  sides,  and  a  large  number 
of  trading  boats  were  obliged  to  halt,  although  the  wind  was 
very  favorable.  The  barrier  was  withdrawn  for  us  Franks,  and 
the  courteous  engineer  touched  his  tarboosh  in  reply  to  our 
salutations,  as  we  shot  through. 

Towards  noon  we  stopped  at  a  village,  and  the  Asian  went 
ashore  with  Ibrahim  to  buy  provisions,  while  the  European 
walked  ahead  with  his  fowling-piece,  to  shoot  wild  ducks  for 
dinner.  The  American  stayed  on  board  and  studied  an  Arabic 
vocabulary.  Presently  Ibrahim  appeared  with  two  fowls,  two 
pigeons,  a  pot  of  milk  and  a  dozen  eggs.  The  Asian  set  about 
preparing  breakfast,  and  showed  himself  so  skilful  that  our 
bark  soon  exhaled  the  most  savory  odors.  When  we  picked 
up  our  European  he  had  only  two  hawks  to  offer  us,  but  we 
gave  him  in  return  a  breakfast  which  he  declared  perfect.  We 
ate  on  deck,  seated  on  a  mat ;  a  pleasant  wind  filled  our  sails, 


ATFKH.  25 

and  myriads  of  swallows  circled  and  twittered  over  our  heads 

in  the  cloudless  air.  The  calm,  contemplative  state  producH 
by  the  coffee  and  pipes  which  Ibrahim  brought  us,  lasted  the 
whole  afternoon,  and  the  villages,  the  cane-fields,  the  Moslem 
oratories,  the  wide  level  of  the  Delta  and  the  distant  mounds 
of  forgotten  cities,  passed  before  our  eyes  like  the  pictures  of 
a  dream.  Only  one  of  these  pictures  marred  the  serenity  of 
our  minds.  It  Was  an  Arab  burying-ground,  on  the  banks  of 
the  Canal — a  collection  of  heaps  of  mud,  baked  in  the  sun. 
At  the  head  and  foot  of  one  of  the  most  recent,  sat  two  wo- 
men— paid  mourners — who  howled  and  sobbed,  in  long,  piteous, 
despairing  cries,  which  were  most  painful  to  hear.  I  should 
never  have  imagined  that  any  thing  but  the  keenest  grief  could 
teach  such  heart-breaking  sounds. 

When  I  climbed  the  bank  at  sunset,  for  a  walk,  the  minareta 
of  Atfeh,  on  the  Nile,  were  visible.  Two  rows  of  acacias, 
planted  along  the  Canal,  formed  a  pleasant  arcade,  through 
which  we  sailed,  to  the  muddy  excrescences  of  the  town.  The 
locks  were  closed  for  the  night,  and  we  were  obliged  to  halt 
which  gave  us  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  an  Arabic  marriage 
procession.  The  noise  of  two  wooden  drums  and  a  sort  of  fife 
announced  the  approach  of  the  bride,  who,  attended  by  her 
rel&tives,  came  down  the  bank  from  the  mud-ovens  above.  She 
was  closely  veiled,  but  the  Arabs  crowded  around  to  get  a  peep 
at  her  face.  No  sooner  had  the  three  Franks  approached,  than 
she  was  doubly  guarded  and  hurried  off"  to  the  house  of  her  in- 
tended husband.  Some  time  afterwards  I  ascended  the  bank 
to  have  a  nearer  view  of  the  miserable  hovels,  but  was  received 
with  such  outcries  and  menacing  gestures,  that  I  made  a  slow 
and  dignified  retreat.  We  visited,  however,  the  house  of  the 
2 


26  JOURNEY    IN    CENTRAL    AFRtCA. 

bridegroom's  father,  where  twenty  or  thirty  Arabs,  seated  on 
the  ground,  were  singing  an  epithalamium,  to  which  they  kept 
time  by  clapping  their  hands. 

Next  morning,  while  our  rais  was  getting  his  permit  to  pass 
the  locks  (for  which  four  official  signatures  and  a  fee  of  thirty 
piastres  are  necessary),  we  visited  the  bazaar,  and  purchased 
long  tubes  of  jasmine-wood  for  our  pipes,  and  vegetables  for 
our  kitchen.  On  all  such  occasions  we  detailed  Seyd,  the  tall 
Nubian,  whose  ebony  face  shone  resplendent  under  a  snow-white 
turban,  to  be  our  attendant.  The  stately  gravity  with  which 
he  walked  behind  us,  carrying  bread  and  vegetables,  was  wor- 
thy the  pipe-bearer  of  a  Sultan.  By  this  time  we  had  installed 
the  Asian  as  cook,  and  he  very  cheerfully  undertook  the  service. 
We  soon  discovered  that  the  skill  of  Ibrahim  extended  no  fur- 
ther than  to  the  making  of  &  pilaff  and  the  preparation  of  coffee. 
Moreover  his  habits  and  appearance  were  not  calculated  to  make 
us  relish  his  handiwork.  The  naivete  with  which  he  took  the 
wash-basin  to  make  soup  in,  and  wiped  our  knives  and  forks  on 
his  own  baggy  pantaloons,  would  have  been  very  amusing  if  we 
had  not  been  interested  parties.  The  Asian  was  one  day 
crumbling  some  loaf  sugar  with  a  hammer,  when  Ibrahim,  who 
had  been  watching  him,  suddenly  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  min- 
gled pity  and  contempt,  "  that's  not  the  way  !  "  Thereupon  he 
took  up  some  of  the  lumps,  and  wrapped  them  in  one  corner  of 
ais  long  white  shirt,  which  he  thrust  into  his  mouth,  and  after 
crushing  the  sugar  between  his  teeth,  emptied  it  into  the  bowl 
with  an  air  of  triumph. 

A  whole  squadron  of  boats  was  waiting  at  the  locks,  but 
with  Prankish  impudence,  we  pushed  through  them,  and  took 
our  place  in  the  front  rank.  The  sun  was  intensely  hot,  and 


ENTRANCE     INTO    THE    NILK.  21 

«FU  sweated  and  broiled  for  a  full  hour,  in  the  midst  of  a  hor 
rible  tumult  of  Arabs,  before  the  clumsy  officers  closed  the  last 
gate  on  us  and  let  us  float  forth  on  the  Nile.  It  is  fhe  west- 
ern, or  Canopic  branch  of  the  river  which  flows  past  Atfeh.  It 
is  not  broader  than  the  Hudson  at  Albany,  but  was  more  mud- 
dy and  slimy  from  its  recent  overflow  than  the  Mississippi  at 
New  Orleans.  Its  water  is  no  less  sweet  and  wholesome  than 
that  of  the  latter  river.  After  leaving  the  monotonous  banks 
of  the  Canal,  the  aspect  of  its  shores,  fringed  with  groves  of 
palm,  was  unspeakably  cheerful  and  inspiring.  On  the  opposit< 
side,  the  slender  white  minarets  of  Fooah,  once  a  rich  manu 
facturing  town,  sparkled  in  the  noonday  sun.  A  fresh  north 
wind  from  the  Mediterranean  slowly  pressed  our  boat  against 
the  strong  current,  while  the  heavily-laden  merchant  vessels 
followed  in  our  wake,  their  two  immense  lateen  sails  expanded 
like  the  wings  of  the  Arabian  roc.  We  drank  to  the  glory  of 
old  Father  Nile  in  a  cup  of  his  own  brown  current,  and  then 
called  Ibrahim  to  replenish  the  empty  shebooks.  Those  who 
object  to  tobacco  under  the  form  of  cigars,  or  are  nauseated  by 
the  fumes  of  a  German  meerschaum,  should  be  told  that  the 
Turkish  pipe,  filled  with  Latakieh,  is  quite  another  thing.  The 
aroma,  which  you  inhale  through  a  long  jasmine  tube,  topped 
with  a  soft  amber  mouth-piece,  is  as  fragrant  as  roses  and  re- 
freshing as  ripe  dates.  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  atmosphere 
of  celestial  musk  and  amber  which  surrounded  Mahomet,  ac 
cording  to  the  Persian  Chronicles,  was  none  other  thaii  genuine 
Latakieh,  at  twenty  piastres  the  oka.  One  thing  is  certain, 
that  without  the  capacity  to  smoke  a  shebook,  no  one  can  taste 
the  true  flavor  of  the  Orient. 

An  hour  or  two  after  sunset  the  wind  fell,  and  for  the  rest 


28  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

of  the  night  our  men  tracked  the  boat  slowly  fonv  *rd,  singing 
cheerily  as  they  tugged  at  the  long  tow-rope.  The  Asian 
spread  on  the  deck  his  Albanian  capote,  the  European  his  am 
pie  travelling  cloak,  and  the  representatives  of  three  Conti 
nents,  travelling  in  the  fourth,  lay  on  their  backs  enjoying  the 
moonlight,  the  palms,  and  more  than  all,  the  perfect  silence  and 
repose.  With  every  day  of  our  journey  I  felt  more  deeply  and 
gratefully  this  sense  of  rest.  Under  such  a  glorious  sky,  no 
disturbance  seemed  possible.  It  was  of  little  consequence 
whether  the  boat  went  forward  or  backward,  whether  we  struck 
on  a  sand-bar  or  ploughed  the  water  under  a  full  head  of  wind ; 
every  thing  was  right.  My  conscience  made  me  no  reproach  for 
such  a  la/,y  life  In  America  we  live  too  fast  and  work  too 
hard,  I  thought  shall  I  not  know  what  Rest  is,  once  before  1 
die  ?  The  European  said  to  me  naively,  one  day :  "  I  am  a 
little  surprised,  but  very  glad,  that  no  one  of  us  has  yet  spoken 
of  European  politics."  Europe  !  I  had  forgotten  that  such  a 
land  existed :  and  as  for  America,  it  seemed  very  dim  and 
distant. 

Sometimes  I  varied  this  repose  by  trying  to  pick  up  the 
language.  Wilkinson's  Vocabulary  and  Capt.  Hayes's  Gram- 
mar did  me  great  service,  and  after  I  had  tried  a  number  of 
words  with  Ibrahim,  to  get  the  pronunciation,  I  made  bolder 
essays.  One  day  when  the  sailors  were  engaged  in  a  most 
vociferous  discussion,  I  broke  upon  them  with  :  "  What  is  all 
this  noise  about  ?  stop  instantly  !"  The  effect  was  instantane- 
ous ;  the  men  were  silent,  and  Seyd,  turning  up  his  eyes  in 
wonder,  cried  out :  "  Wallah  !  the  Howadji  talks  Arabic!'' 
The  two  copper-faced  Fellahs  thought  it  very  amusing,  and 
ivery  new  word  I  learned  sufficed  to  set  them  laughing  for  half 


8CBNERY    OF    THE    DELTA.  20 

an  hour.  I  called  out  to  a  fisherman,  seated  on  the  bank :  "  0 
Fisherman,  have  you  any  fish  ?  "  and  he  held  up  a  string  of 
them  and  made  answer  :  "  0  Howadji,  I  have."  This  solemr 
form  of  address,  which  is  universal  in  Arabic,  makes  the  Ian 
guage  very  piquant  to  a  student. 

During  our  second  night  on  the  river,  we  passed  the  site 
of  ancient  Sai's,  one  of  the  most  renowned  of  Egyptian  cities 
which  has  left  nothing  but  a  few  shapeless  mounds.  The  coun- 
try was  in  many  places  still  wet  from  the  inundation,  which 
was  the  largest  that  had  occurred  for  many  years.  The  Fel- 
lahs were  ploughing  for  wheat,  with  a  single  buffalo  geared  to  a 
sharp  pole,  which  scratched  up  the  soil  to  the  depth  of  three 
inches.  Fields  of  maize  and  sugar-cane  were  frequent,  and  I 
noticed  also  some  plantations  of  tobacco,  millet,  and  a  species 
of  lupin,  which  is  cultivated  for  its  beans.  The  only  vegetables 
we  found  for  sale  in  the  villages,  were  onions,  leeks  and  toma- 
toes Milk,  butter  and  eggs  are  abundant  and  very  good,  but 
the  cheese  of  the  country  is  detestable.  The  habitations  resem- 
ble ant-hills,  rather  than  human  dwellings,  and  the  villages  are 
depots  of  tilth  and  vermin,  on  the  most  magnificent  scale.  Our 
aoat  was  fortunately  free  from  the  latter,  except  a  few  cock- 
roaches. Except  the  palm  and  acacia,  without  which  a  Nile 
journey  would  lose  half  its  attractions,  I  saw  few  trees.  Here 
and  there  stood  a  group  of  superb  plane-trees,  and  the  banana 
sometimes  appeared  in  the  gardens,  but  there  is  nothing  of  that 
marvellous  luxuriance  and  variety  of  vegetation  which  is  else- 
where exhibited  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Tropics. 

On  the  evening  of  the  third  day  we  reached  the  town  of 
Nadir,  and,  as  there  was  no  wind,  went  ashore  for  an  hour  or 
two.  There  was  a  cafe  on  the  bank — a  mud  house,  with  two 


30  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

windows,  adorned  with  wooden  frames,  carved  in  the  Mooriak 
style  A  divan,  built  of  clay  and  whitewashed,  extended  along 
one  side  of  the  room,  and  on  this  we  seated  ourselves  cross-leg- 
ged, while  the  host  prepared  the  little  coffee-cups  and  filled  the 
pipes.  Through  the  open  door  we  saw  the  Nile,  gleaming 
broadly  under  the  full  moon,  and  in  the  distance,  two  tall  palm- 
trees  stood  clearly  against  the  sky.  Our  boatmen,  whom  we 
had  treated  to  booza,  the  Egyptian  beer,  sat  before  us,  and 
joined  in  the  chorus  of  a  song,  which  was  sung  to  entertain  us. 
The  performers  were  three  women,  and  a  man  who  played  a 
coarse  reed  flute.  One  of  the  women  had  a  tambourine,  another 
a  small  wooden  drum,  and  the  third  kept  time  by  slapping  the 
closed  fingers- of  the  right  hand  on  the  palm  of  the  left.  The 
song,  which  had  a  wild,  rude  harmony  that  pleased  me,  was 
followed  by  a  dance,  executed  by  one  of  the  women.  It  was 
rery  similar  to  the  fandango,  as  danced  by  the  natives  of  the 
Isthmus  of  Panama,  and  was  more  lascivious  than  graceful 
The  women,  however,  were  of  the  lowest  class,  and  their  per- 
formances were  adapted  to  the  taste  of  the  boatmen  and  camel- 
drivers,  by  whom  they  are  patronized. 

The  next  day  the  yellow  hills  of  the  Libyan  Desert,  which 
in  some  places  press  the  arable  land  of  the  Delta  even  to  the 
brink  of  the  Nile,  appeared  in  the  west.  The  sand  appeared 
to  be  steadily  advancing  towards  the  river,  and  near  Werdan 
had  already  buried  a  grove  of  acacias  as  high  as  their  first 
branches.  The  tops  were  green  and  flourishing  above  the 
deluge,  but  another  year  or  two  would  overwhelm  them  com- 
pletely. We  had  a  thick  fog  during  the  night,  and  the  follow- 
ing day  was  exceedingly  hot  though  the  air  was  transparent  at 
crystal.  Our  three  faces  were  already  of  the  color  of  uen 


THE  BARRAGE.  31 

bronze,  which  was  burned  into  the  skin  by  the  reflection  front 
the  water.  While  my  friends  were  enjoying  their  usual  after- 
noon repose,  a  secret  presentiment  made  me  climb  to  the  roof 
of  our  cabin.  I  had  not  sat  there  long,  before  I  descried  two 
faint  blue  triangles  on  the  horizon,  far  to  the  south.  I  rudelj 
broke  in  upon  their  indolence  with  a  shout  of  '  the  Pyra- 
mids !  "  which  Seyd  echoed  with  "  El-hdram  Faraoon  !  "  I 
was  as  much  impressed  with  the  view  as  I  expected  to  be,  but 
I  completely  nullified  the  European's  emotion  by  translating 
to  him  Thackeray's  description  of  his  first  sight  of  those  re- 
nowned monuments. 

The  same  evening  we  reached  the  northern  point  of  the 
Delta,  where  we  were  obliged  to  remain  all  night,  as  the  wind 
waa  not  sufficiently  strong  to  allow  us  to  pass  the  Barrage. 
Singularly  enough,  this  immense  work,  which  is  among  the 
greatest  undertakings  of  modern  times,  is  scarcely  heard  of  out 
of  Egypt.  It  is  nothing  less  than  a  damming  of  the  Nile, 
which  is  to  have  the  efiect  of  producing  two  inundations  a 
year,  and  doubling  the  crops  throughout  the  Delta.  Here, 
where  the  flood  divides  itself  into  two  main  branches,  which 
find  separate  mouths  at  Damietta  and  Rosetta,  an  immense 
dam  has  not  only  been  projected,  but  is  far  advanced  toward 
completion.  Each  branch  will  be  spanned  by  sixty-two  arches, 
besides  a  central  gateway  ninety  feet  in  breadth,  and  flanked 
by  lofty  stone  towers.  The  point  of  the  Delta,  between  the 
two  dams,  is  protected  by  a  curtain  of  solid  masonry,  and  the 
nbutments  which  it  joins  are  fortified  by  towers  sixty  or  seven- 
ty feet  in  height.  The  piers  have  curved  breakwaters  on  the 
upper  side,  while  the  opposite  parapet  of  the  arches  rises  high 
above  them,  go  that  the  dam  consists  of  three  successive  ter- 


89  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

races,  and  presents  itself  like  a  wedge,  against  the  force  of 
such  an  immense  body  of  water.  The  material  is  brick,  faced 
with  stone.  When  complete,  it  is  intended  to  close  the  side- 
arches  during  low  water,  leaving  only  the  central  gateway 
open.  By  this  means  sufficient  water  will  be  gained  to  fill  all 
the  irrigating  canals,  while  a  new  channel,  cut  through  th« 
centre  of  the  Delta,  will  render  productive  a  vast  tract  of  fer- 
tile land  The  project  is  a  grand  one,  and  the  only  obstacle 
to  its  success  is  the  light,  porous  character  of  the  alluvial 
soil  on  which  the  piers  are  founded.  The  undertaking  was 
planned  and  commenced  by  M.  Linant,  and  has  since  been 
continued  by  other  engineers. 

The  Egyptian  boatmen  have  reason  to  complain  of  the 
Barrage.  The  main  force  of  the  river  is  poured  through  the 
narrow  space  wherein  the  piers  have  not  yet  been  sunk,  which 
cannot  be  passed  without  a  strong  north  wind.  Forty  or  fifty 
boats  were  lying  along  the  shore,  waiting  the  favorable  mo- 
ment. We  obtained  permission  from  the  engineer  to  attach 
our  boat  to  a  large  government  barge,  which  was  to  be  drawn 
up  by  a  stationary  windlass.  As  we  put  off,  the  wind  freshen- 
ed, and  we  were  slowly  urged  against  the  current  to  the  main 
rapid,  where  we  were  obliged  to  hold  on  to  our  big  friend. 
Behind  us  the  river  was  white  with  sails — craft  of  all  kinds, 
pushed  up  by  the  wind,  dragged  down  by  the  water,  striking 
against  each  other,  entangling  their  long  sails  and  crowding 
into  the  narrow  passage,  amid  shouts,  cries  and  a  bewildering 
profusion  of  Arabic  gutturals.  For  half  an  hour,  the  scene  waa 
most  exciting,  but  thanks  to  the  windlass,  we  reached  smoother 
water,  and  sailed  off  gayly  for  Cairo. 

The  true  Nile  expanded  before  us,  nearly  two  miles  in 


WE    REACH    BOULAK.  33 

width.  To  the  south,  the  three  Pyramids  of  Gizeh  loomed 
up  like  isolated  mountain-peaks  on  the  verge  of  the  Desert 
On  the  right  hand  the  Mokattam  Hills  lay  red  and  bare  in 
the  sunshine,  and  ere  long,  over  the  distant  gardens  of  Shoo- 
bra,  we  caught  sight  of  the  Citadel  of  Cairo,  and  the  minarets 
of  the  mosque  of  Sultan  Hassan.  The  north  wind  was  faith- 
ful :  at  three  o'clock  we  were  anchored  in  Boulak,  paid  our 
rai's,  gave  the  crew  a  backsheesh,  for  whicb  they  kissed  our 
hands  with  many  exclamations  of  utaib!r  (good  I)  ami  set 
out  for  Cairo. 


34  JOCRXEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 


CHAPTER    III. 

PICTURES      OP      CAIRO 

Entrance — The  Ezbekiyeh— Saracenic  Houses — Donkeys — The  Bazaars — The  Street* 
—Processions— View  from  the  Citadel— Mosque  of  Mohammed  All— The  Bead  to 
Suez— The  Island  of  Rhoda. 

OUR  approach  to  and  entrance  into  Cairo  was  the  illuminated 
frontispiece  to  the  volume  of  my  Eastern  life.  From  the  Nile 
we  had  already  seen  the  mosque  of  Sultan  Hassan,  the  white 
domes,  and  long,  pencil-like  minarets  of  the  new  mosque  of 
Mohammed  Ali,  and  the  massive  masonry  of  the  Citadel, 
crowning  a  projecting  spur  of  the  Mokattam  Hills,  which 
touches  the  city  on  the  eastern  side.  But  when,  mounted 
on  ambling  donkeys,  we  followed  the  laden  baggage-horses 
through  the  streets  of  Boulak,  and  entered  the  broad,  shaded 
highway  leading  through  gardens,  grain-fields  and  groves  of 
palm  and  banana,  to  the  gate  of  the  Ezbekiyeh — the  great 
square  of  Cairo — the  scene,  which,  at  a  distance,  had  been 
dimmed  and  softened  by  the  filmy  screen  of  the  Egyptian  air, 
now  became  so  gay,  picturesque  and  animated,  so  full  of  life 
and  motion  and  color,  that  my  dreams  of  the  East  were  at 
once  displaced  l>y  the  vivid  reality.  The  donkey-riding  multi- 
tudes, who  passed,  continually  to  and  fro,  were  wholly  unlike 


THE    GREAT    SQUARE    OF    CAIRO.  35 

the  crowds  of  Smyrna  and  Alexandria,  where  the  growing  in- 
fluence of  European  dress  and  customs  is  already  visible. 
Here,  every  thing  still  exhaled  the  rich  aroma  of  the  Orient, 
as  it  had  been  wafted  to  me  from  the  Thousand  and  One 
Nights,  the  Persian  poets  and  the  Arab  chroniclers.  I  forgot 
flint  I  still  wore  a  Frank  dress,  and  found  myself  wondering  at 
the  temerity  of  the  few  Europeans  we  met.  I  looked  without 
surprise  on  the  long  processions  of  donkeys  carrying  water- 
skins,  the  heavily-laden  camels,  the  women  with  white  masks 
on  their  faces  and  black  bags  around  their  bodies,  the  stolid 
Nubian  slaves,  the  grave  Abyssiuians,  and  all  the  other  va 
rious  characters  that  passed  and  repassed  us.  But  becaust 
they  were  so  familiar,  they  were  none  the  less  interesting,  for 
all  had  been  acquaintances,  when,  like  Tennyson,  "  true  Mus- 
sulman was  I,  and  sworn,"  under  the  reign  of  the  good  Uaroun 
Al-Raschid. 

We  entered  the  Ezbekiyeh,  which  is  wholly  overgrown  with 
majestic  acacias  and  plane-trees,  and  thickets  of  aromatic  flow- 
ering shrubs.  It  is  in  the  Frank  quarter  of  the  city,  and  was 
first  laid  out  and  planted  by  order  of  Mohammed  Ali.  All  the 
principal  hotels  front  upon  it,  and  light,  thatched  cafes  fill  the 
space  under  the  plane-trees,  where  the  beau  monde  of  Cairo 
promenade  every  Sunday  evening.  Nothing  of  the  old  City  of 
the  Caliphs,  except  a  few  tall  minarets,  can  be  seen  from  this 
quarter,  but  the  bowery  luxuriance  of  the  foliage  is  all  that  the 
eye  demands,  and  over  the  plain  white  walls,  on  every  side., 
the  palms — single,  or  in  friendly  groups — lift  their  feathery 
srowns.  After  installing  our  hcusehold  gods  in  the  chambers 
af  the  quiet  and  comfortable  Hotel  d'Europe,  we  went  out  to 
enjoy  the  sweet  evening  air  in  fr  jnt  of  one  of  the  cafe*.  I 


38  JOVKNKY    TO    CENTRAL 


fried  foi  the  first  time  the  narghileh,  or  Persian  water-pipe 
The  soft,  velvety  leaves  of  the  tobacco  of  Shiraz  are  burned  iii 
a  small  cup,  the  tube  of  which  enters  a  glass  vase,  half  filled 
with  rose  -seen  ted  water.  From  the  top  of  this  vase  issues  a 
flexible  tube,  several  feet  in  length,  with  a  mouth-piece  of  wood 
or  amber.  At  each  inspiration,  the  smoke  is  drawn  downward 
and  rises  through  the  water  with  a  pleasant  bubbling  sound.  It 
is  deprived  of  all  the  essential  oil  of  the  weed,  and  is  exceed- 
ingly mild,  cool  and  fragrant.  But  instead  of  being  puffed  out 
of  the  mouth  in  whiffs,  it  is  breathed  full  into  the  lungs  and 
out  again,  like  the  common  air.  This  is  not  so  difficult  a  mat- 
ter as  might  be  supposed  ;  the  sensation  is  pleasant  and  slight- 
ly exhilarating,  and  is  not  injurious  to  the  lungs  when  moder- 
ately indulged  in. 

The  Turkish  quarter  of  Cairo  still  retains  the  picturesque 
Saracenic  architecture  of  the  times  of  the  Caliphs.  The 
houses  are  mostly  three  stories  in  height,  each  story  projecting 
over  the  other,  and  the  plain  stone  walls  are  either  whitewash- 
ed or  striped  with  horizontal  red  bars,  in  a  manner  which  would 
be  absurd  under  a  northern  sky,  but  which  is  here  singularly 
harmonious  and  agreeable.  The  only  signs  of  sculpture  are 
occasional  door-ways  with  richly  carved  arches,  or  the  light 
marble  gallery  surrounding  a  fountained  court.  I  saw  a  few 
of  these  in  retired  parts  of  the  city.  The  traveller,  however, 
has  an  exhaustless  source  of  delight  in  the  wooden  balconies 
inclosing  the  upper  windows.  The  extraordinary  lightness, 
grace  and  delicate  fragility  of  their  workmanship,  rendered  still 
more  striking  by  contrast  with  the  naked  solidity  of  the  walla 
to  which  they  cling,  gave  me  a  new  idea  of  the  skill  and  fancy 
Df  the  Saracenic  architects.  The  wood  seems  rather  woven  in 


DONKEYS    AND    DONKEY-BOYS.  91 

the  loom,  than  cut  with  the  saw  and  chisel  Through  thest 
lattices  of  fine  network,  with  borders  worked  in  lace-like  pat- 
terns, and  sometimes  topped  with  slender  turrets  and  pinnacles, 
the  wives  of  the  Cairene  merchants  sit  and  watch  the  crowds 
passing  softly  to  and  fro  in  the  twilight  of  the  bazaars,  them- 
selves unseen.  It  needed  no  effort  of  the  imagination  to  people 
the  fairy  watch-towers  under  which  we  rode  daily,  with  forms 
ae  beautiful  as  those  which  live  in  the  voluptuous  melodies  of 
Hafiz. 

To  see  Cairo  thoroughly,  one  must  first  accustom  himself 
to  the  ways  of  those  long-eared  cabs,  without  the  use  of  which 
T  would  advise  no  one  to  trust  himself  in  the  bazaars.  Don- 
key-riding is  universal,  and  no  one  thinks  of  going  beyond  the 
Frank  quarter  on  foot.  If  he  does,  he  must  submit  to  be  fol- 
lowed by  not  less  than  six  donkeys  with  their  drivers,  A 
friend  of  mine,  who  was  attended  by  such  a  cavalcade  for  two 
hours,  was  obliged  to  yield  at  last,  and  made  no  second  attempt. 
When  we  first  appeared  in  the  gateway  of  our  hotel,  equipped 
for  an  excursion,  the  rush  of  men  and  animals  was  so  great, 
that  we  were  forced  to  retreat  until  our  servant  and  the  porter 
whipped  as  a  path  through  the  yelling  and  braying  mob.  Af- 
ter one  or  two  trials,  I  found  an  intelligent  Arab  boy,  named 
Kish,  who,  for  five  piastres  a  day,  furnished  strong  and  ambi- 
tious donkeys,  which  he  kept  ready  at  the  door  from  morning 
till  night.  The  other  drivers  respected  Kish's  privilege,  and 
thenceforth  I  had  no  trouble.  The  donkeys  are  so  small  thai 
iiy  feet,  nearly  touched  the  ground,  but  there  is  no  end  to  their 
itrength  and  endurance.  Their  gait,  whether  a  pace  or  a  gal 
lop,  is  so  easy  and  light  that  fatigue  is  impossible.  The  dri 
vers  take  great  pride  in  having  high-cushioned  red  saddles,  and 


88  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

in  hanging  bits  of  jingling  brass  to  the  bridles.  They 
their  donkeys  close  shorn,  and  frequently  beautify  them  by 
painting  them  various  colors.  The  first  animal  I  rode  had  legs 
barred  like  a  zebra's,  and  my  friend's  rejoiced  in  purple  flankf 
and  a  yellow  belly.  The  drivers  run  behind  them  with  a  short 
stick,  punching  them  from  time  to  time,  or  giving  them  a  sharp 
pinch  on  the  rump.  Very  few  of  them  own  their  donkeys,  and 
I  understood  their  pertinacity  when  I  learned  that  they  fre- 
quently received  a  beating  on  returning  home  in  the  evening 
empty-handed. 

The  passage  of  the  bazaars  seems  at  first  quite  as  hazardous 
on  donkey-back  as  on  foot,  but  it  is  the  difference  between  knock- 
ing somebody  down  and  being  knocked  down  yourself,  and  one 
naturally  prefers  the  former  alternative.  There  is  no  use  in 
attempting  to  guide  the  donkey,  for  he  won't  be  guided.  The 
driver  shouts  behind,  and  you  are  dashed  at  full  speed  into  a 
confusion  of  other  donkeys,  camels,  horses,  carts,  water-car- 
riers and  footmen.  In  vain  you  cry  out :  "  Bess  !  "  (enough !) 
"  Piano  !  "  and  other  desperate  adjurations ;  the  driver's  only 
reply  is :  "  Let  the  bridle  hang  loose ! "  You  dodge  your 
head  under  a  camel-load  of  planks  •  your  leg  brushes  the  wheel 
of  a  dust-cart ;  you  strike  a  fat  Turk  plump  in  the  back ;  you 
miraculously  escape  upsetting  a  fruit-stand ;  you  scatter  a  com- 
pany of  spectral,  white-masked  women,  and  at  last  reach  some 
more  quiet  street,  with  the  sensation  of  a  man  who  has  stormed 
a  battery.  At  first  this  sort  of  riding  made  me  very  nervous, 
but  finally  I  let  the  donkey  go  his  own  way,  and  took  a  curious 
interest  in  seeing  how  near  a  chance  I  ran  of  striking  or  being 
struck.  Sometimes  there  seemed  no  hope  of  avoiding  a  violent 
collision,  but  by  a  scries  of  the  most  remarkable  dodges  he  geD 


THE    POPULACE    OF    CAIRO.  3fl 

erally  carried  me  through  in  safety.  The  cries  of  the  driver, 
running  behind,  gave  me  no  little  amusement :  '  The  Howadji 
comes !  Take  care  on  the  right  hand !  take  care  on  the  left 
hand  1  0  man,  take  care  !  0  maiden,  take  care !  0  boy,  get 
out  of  the  way  !  The  Howadji  comes  !  "  Kish  had  strong  lungs 
and  his  donkey  would  let  nothing  pass  him,  and  so,  wherever 
we  went,  we  contributed  our  full  share  to  the  universal  noise 
and  confusion. 

Cairo  is  the  cleanest  of  all  oriental  cities.  The  regulations 
established  by  Mohammed  All  are  strictly  carried  out.  Each 
man  is  obliged  to  sweep  before  his  own  door,  and  the  dirt  is 
carried  away  in  carts  every  morning.  Besides  this,  the  streets 
are  watered  several  times  a  day,  and  are  nearly  always  cool 
and  free  from  dust.  The  constant  evaporation  of  the  water, 
however,  is  said  to  be  injurious  to  the  eyes  of  the  inhabitants, 
though  in  other  respects  the  city  is  healthy.  The  quantity  of 
sore-eyed,  cross-eyed,  one-eyed,  and  totally  blind  persons  one 
meets  every  where,  is  surprising.  There  are  some  beggars, 
mostly  old  or  deformed,  but  by  no  means  so  abundant  or  imper- 
tinent as  in  the  Italian  cities.  A  number  of  shabby  police- 
men, in  blue  frock-coats  and  white  pantaloons,  parade  the  prin- 
cipal thoroughfares,  but  I  never  saw  their  services  called  into 
requisition.  The  soldiers,  who  wear  a  European  dress  of  white 
cotton,  are  by  far  the  most  awkward  and  unpicturesque  class 
Even  the  Fellah,  whose  single  brown  garment  hangs  loose  from 
his  shoulders  to  his  knees,  has  an  air  of  dignity  compared  witb 
these  Prankish  caricatures.  The  genuine  Egyptian  costume 
which  bears  considerable  resemblance  to  the  Greek,  and  espe 
cially  the  Hydriote,  is  simple  and  graceful.  The  colors  are 
lark — principally  brown,  blue,  green  and  violet — relieved  by  8 


40  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

heavy  silk  sash  of  some  gay  pattern,  and  by  the  red  slippers 
and  tarboosh.  But,  as  in  Turkey,  the  Pashas  and  Beys,  and 
many  of  the  minor  officers  ot  the  civil  departments  have  adopt 
ed  the  Frank  dress,  retaining  only  the  tarboosh, — a  change 
which  is  by  no  means  becoming  to  them.  I  went  into  an  Egyp 
tian  barber-shop  one  day,  to  have  my  hair  shorn,  and  ;n 
joyed  the  preparatory  pipe  and  coffee  in  company  with  two  in- 
dividuals, whom  I  supposed  to  be  French  or  Italians  of  the 
vulgar  order,  until  the  barber  combed  out  the  long  locks  on  the 
top  of  their  head,  by  which  Mussulmen  expect  to  be  lifted  up 
into  Paradise.  When  they  had  gone,  the  man  informed  me 
*hat  one  was  Khaliin  Pasha,  one  of  the  grandsons  of  Moham- 
med Ali,  and  the  other  a  Bey,  of  considerable  notoriety.  The 
Egyptians  certainly  do  not  gain  any  thing  by  adopting  a  costume 
which,  in  this  climate,  is  neither  so  convenient  nor  so  agreeable 
as  their  own. 

Besides  the  animated  life  of  the  bazaars,  which  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  seeing,  in  making  my  outfit  for  the  winter's 
journey,  I  rarely  went  out  without  witnessing  some  incident  or 
ceremony  illustrative  of  Egyptian  character  and  customs.  One 
morning  I  encountered  a  stately  procession,  with  music  and 
banners,  accompanying  a  venerable  personage,  with  a  green  tur- 
ban on  his  head  and  a  long  white  beard  flowing  over  his  breast. 
This,  as  Kish  assured  me.  was  the  Shereef  of  Mecca.  He  \v;is 
attended  by  officers  in  the  richest  Turkish  and  Egyptian  cos- 
tumes, mounted  on  splendid  Arabian  steeds,  who  were  almost 
hidden  under  their  broad  housings  of  green  and  crimson  velvet, 
embroidered  with  gold.  The  people  on  all  sides,  as  he  passed, 
laid  their  hands  on  their  breasts  and  bowed  low,  which  he  an- 
Bwered  by  slowly  lifting  his  hand.  It  was  a  simple  motion,  bui 
nothing  rmild  h;ivo  lieen  more  calm  and  majestic. 


FESTIVE    PROCESSIONS.  41 

On  another  occasion,  I  met  a  bridal  procession  in  the  streets 
of  Boulak.  Three  musicians,  playing  on  piercing  flutes,  head- 
ed the  march,  followed  by  the  parents  of  the  bride,  who,  sur- 
rounded by  her  maids,  walked  under  a  crimson  canopy.  She 
was  shrouded  from  head  to  foot  in  a  red  robe,  over  which  a 
gilded  diadem  was  fastened  around  her  head.  A  large  crowd 
of  friends  and  relatives  closed  the  procession,  close  behind 
which  followed  another,  of  very  different  character.  The  chief 
actors  were  four  boys,  of  five  01  six  years  old,  on  their  way  to 
be  circumcised.  Each  was  mounted  on  a  handsome  horse,  and 
wore  the  gala  garments  of  a  full-grown  man,  in  which  their  little 
bodies  were  entirely  lost  The  proud  parents  marched  by  their 
sides,  supporting  them,  and  occasionally  holding  to  their  lips 
bottles  of  milk  and  sherbet.  One  was  a  jet  black  Nubian,  who 
seemed  particularly  delighted  with  his  situation,  and  grinned  on 
all  sides  as  ho  passed  along.  This  procession  was  headed  by 
a  buffoon,  who  carried  a  laugh  with  him  which  opened  a  ready 
passage  through  the  crowd.  A  man  followed  balancing  on  his 
chin  a  long  pole  crownod  with  a  bunch  of  flowers.  He  came  to 
me  for  backsheesh.  His  success  brought  me  two  swordsmen 
out  of  the  procession,  who  cut  at  each  other  with  scimitars  and 
caught  the  blows  on  their  shields.  The  coolness,  swiftness  and 
skill  with  which  they  parried  the  strokes  was  really  admirable, 
and  the  concluding  flourish  was  a  masterpiece.  One  of  them, 
striking  with  the  full  sweep  of  his  arm,  aimed  directly  at  the 
face  of  the  other,  as  if  to  divide  his  head  into  two  parts ;  but 
without  making  a  pause,  the  glittering  weapon  turned,  and 
sliced  the  air  within  half  an  inch  of  his  eyes.  The  man  neither 
winked  nor  moved  a  muscle  of  his  face,  but  after  the  scimitai 
had  passed,  dashed  it  up  with  his  shield,  which  he  then  reversed, 


42  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

and  dropping  on  one  knee,  held  to  me  for  backsheesh.  After 
these  came  a  camel,  with  a  tuft  of  ostrich  feathers  on  his  head 
and  a  boy  on  his  back,  who  pounded  vigorously  on  two  wooden 
drums  with  one  hand,  while  he  stretched  the  other  down  to  me 
for  backsheesh.  Luckily  the  little  candidates  for  circumci 
sion  were  too  busily  engaged  with  their  milk  bottles  ai.d  sugar- 
plums, to  join  in  the  universal  cry 

I  had  little  time  to  devote  to  1  he  sights  of  Cairo,  and  wag 
obliged  to  omit  the  excursions  to  the  Petrified  Forest,  to  Helio- 
polis  and  Old  Cairo,  until  my  return.  Besides  the  city  itself, 
which  was  always  full  of  interest,  I  saw  little  else  except  the 
Citadel  and  the  Island  of  Rhoda.  We  took  the  early  morning 
for  our  ride  to  the  former  place,  and  were  fortunate  enough  to 
find  our  view  of  the  Nile-plain  unobscured  by  the  mists  cus- 
tomary at  this  season.  The  morning  light  is  most  favorable  to 
the  landscape,  which  lies  wholly  to  the  westward.  The  shad 
ews  of  the  Citadel  and  the  crests  of  the  Mokattam  Hills  then 
lie  broad  and  cool  over  the  city,  but  do  not  touch  its  minarets, 
which  glitter  in  the  air  like  shafts  of  white  and  rosy  flame. 
The  populace  is  up  and  stirring,  and  you  can  hear  the  cries  of 
the  donkeymen  and  water-carriers  from  under  the  sycamores  and 
acacias  that  shade  the  road  to  Boulak.  Over  the  rich  palm- 
gardens,  the  blue  streak  of  the  river  and  the  plain  beyond,  you 
see  the  phantoms  of  two  pyramids  in  the  haze  which  still  cur- 
tains the  Libyan  Desert.  Northward,  beyond  the  parks  and 
palaces  of  Shoobra,  the  Nile  stretches  his  two  great  arms  to- 
ward the  sea,  dotted,  far  into  the  distance,  with  sails  that  flash 
in  the  sun.  From  no  other  point,  and  at  no  other  time,  ii 
Cairo  so  grand  and  beautiful. 

Within  the  walla  of  the  Citadel  is  the  Sir  Toussef — Jo- 


THE    CITADEL. 


soph's  Well  —  as  it  is  called  by  the  Arabs,  not  from  the  vir- 
tuous Hebrew,  but  from  Sultan  Saladin,  who  dug  it  out  and 
put  it  in  operation.  The  well  itself  dates  from  the  old  Egyp- 
tian time,  but  was  filled  with  sand  and  entirely  lost  for  man) 
centuries.  It  consists  of  an  upper  and  lower  shaft,  cut  through 
the  solid  rock,  to  the  depth  of  two  hundred  and  sixty  feet.  A 
winding  gallery,  lighted  from  the  shaft,  extends  to  the  bottom 
of  the  first,  division,  where,  in  a  chamber  cut  in  the  rock,  a 
mule  turns  the  large  wheel  which  brings  up  a  continual  string 
of  buckets  from  the  fountain  below.  The  water  is  poured  into 
a  spacious  basin,  and  carried  thence  to  the  top  by  another 
string  of  buckets  set  in  motion  at  the  surface.  Attended  by 
two  Arabs  with  torches,  we  made  the  descent  of  the  first  shaft 
and  took  a  drink  of  the  fresh,  cool  fluid.  This  well,  and  the 
spot  where  the  Mameluke  Emin  Bey  jumped  his  horse  over 
the  wall  and  escaped  the  massacre  of  his  comrades,  are  the 
only  interesting  historical  points  about  the  Citadel  ;  and  the 
new  mosque  of  Mohammed  All,  which  overlooks  the  city  from 
the  most  projecting  platform  of  the  fortifications,  is  the  only 
part  which  has  any  claim  to  architectural  beauty.  Although 
it  has  been  in  process  of  erection  for  many  years,  this  mosque 
is  not  nearly  completed  internally.  The  exterior  is  finished, 
and  its  large,  white,  depressed  dome,  flanked  by  minarets  so 
tall  and  reed-like  that  they  seem  ready  to  bend  with  every 
breeze,  is  the  first  signal  of  Cairo  to  travellers  coming  up  or 
down  the  Nile.  The  interior  walls  are  lined  throughout  with 
oriental  alabaster,  stained  with  the  orange  flush  of  Egyptian 
sunsets,  and  the  three  domes  blaze  with  elaborate  arabesques 
of  green,  blue,  crimson  and  gold.  In  a  temporary  chamber, 
fitted  up  in  one  corner,  rests  the  coffin  of  Mohammed  Ali,  oov- 


44  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

ered  with  a  heavy  velvet  pall,  and  under  the  marble  arches  b& 
fore  it,  a  company  of  priests,  squatted  on  the  green  carpet  cov- 
ering the  floor,  bow  their  heads  continually  and  recite  prayer! 
or  fragments  of  the  Koran. 

Before  descending  into  the  city,  I  rode  a  little  way  into 
the  Desert  to  the  tombs  of  the  Caliphs,  on  the  road  to  Suez. 
They  consist  mostly  of  stone  canopies  raised  on  pillars,  with 
mosques  or  oratories  attached  to  them,  exhibiting  considerable 
variety  in  their  design,  but  are  more  curious  than  impressive. 
The  track  in  the  sand  made  by  the  pilgrims  to  Mecca  and  the 
overland  passengers  to  Suez,  had  far  more  real  interest  in  my 
eyes.  The  pilgrims  are  fewer,  and  the  passengers  more  nu- 
merous, with  each  successive  year.  English-built  omnibuses, 
whirled  along  by  galloping  post-horses,  scatter  the  sand,  and 
in  the  midst  of  the  herbless  Desert,  the  travellers  regale  them- 
selves with  beefsteak  and  ale,  and  growl  if  the  accustomed 
Cheshire  is  found  wanting.  At  this  rate,  how  long  will  it  be 
before  there  is  a  telegraph-station  in  Mecca,  and  the  opsrator 
explodes  with  his  wire  a  cannon  on  the  Citadel  of  Cairo,  to 
announce  that  the  prayers  on  Mount  Arafat  have  commenced  ? 

The  Island  of  Rhoda,  which  I  visited  on  a  soft,  golden 
afternoon,  is  but  a  reminiscence  of  what  it  was  a  few  years 
ago.  Since  Ibrahim  Pasha's  death  it  has  been  wholly  neglect- 
ed, and  though  we  found  a  few  gardeners  at  work,  digging  up 
the  sodden  flower-beds  and  clipping  the  rank  myrtle  hedges, 
they  only  served  to  make  the  neglect  more  palpable.  During 
the  recent  inundation,  the  Nile  had  risen  to  within  a  few 
inches  of  covering  the  whole  island,  and  the  soil  was  still  soft 
wid  clammy.  Nearly  all  the  growths  of  the  tropics  are  nur- 
tured here;  the  coffee,  the  Indian  fig,  the  mango,  and 


NKCOHUS    OK    SILLINESS.  45 

ftees  alternate  with  the  palm,  orange,  acacia,  and  the  yellow 
mimosa,  whose  blossoms  make  the  isle  fragrant.  I  gathered 
a  bunch  of  roses  and  jasmine-flowers  from  the  unpruned  vines, 
[n  the  centre  of  the  garden  is  an  artificial  grotto  lined  with 
shells,  many  of  which  have  been  broken  off  and  carried  away 
by  ridiculous  tourists.  There  is  no  limit  to  human  silliness, 
as  I  have  wisely  concluded,  after  seeing  Pompey's  Pillar  dis- 
figured by  "  Isaac  Jones  "  (or  some  equally  classic  name),  iu 
capitals  of  black  paint,  a  yard  long,  and  finding  "  Jenny  Lind ' 
equally  prominent  on  the  topmost  stone  of  the  great  Pyramid 
(Of  course,  the  enthusiastic  artist  chiselled  his  own  name  be- 
side hers.)  A  mallet  and  chisel  are  often  to  be  found  in  the 
outfits  of  English  and  American  travellers,  and  to  judge  from 
the  frequency  of  certain  names,  and  the  pains  bestowed  upon 
their  inscription,  the  owners  must  have  spent  the  most  of  theii 
lime  in  Upper  Egypt,  in  leaving  records  of  their  vulgar  vanity 


4(J  JOURNKY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

PREPARATIONS  FOR  THK  JOURNEY  INTO  CENTRAL  AFRICA. 

Wecesaity  of  Leaving  Immediately— Engaging  a  Boat— The  Dragomen— Achtnet  o 
Baidi — Funds — Information— Procuring  an  Outfit — Preparing  for  the  Desert— The 
Lucky  Day — Exertions  to  Leave — Off ! 

I  DEVOTED  but  little  time  to  seeing  Cairo,  for  the  travelling 
season  had  arrived,  and  a  speedy  departure  from  Cairo  was 
absolutely  necessary.  The  trip  to  Khartoum  occupies  at  least 
two  months  and  it  is  not  safe  to  remain  there  later  than  the 
first  of  March,  on  account  of  the  heat  and  the  rainy  season, 
which  is  very  unhealthy  for  strangers.  Dr.  Kuoblecher,  the 
Catholic  Apostolic  Vicar  for  Central  Africa,  had  left  about  a 
month  previous,  on  his  expedition  to  the  sources  of  the  White 
Nile.  I  therefore  went  zealously  to  work,  and  in  five  days  my 
preparations  were  nearly  completed.  I  prevailed  upon  the 
European  of  our  triad,  who  had  intended  proceeding  no  further 
than  Cairo,  to  join  me  for  the  voyage  to  Assouan,  on  the  Nubi- 
an frontier,  and  our  first  care  was  to  eugage  a  good  dahabiych, 
or  Nile-boat..  This  arrangement  gave  me  great  joy,  for  no- 
where is  a  congenial  comrade  so  desirable  as  on  the  Nile.  My 
friend  appreciated  the  river,  and  without  the  prospect  of  seeing 
Thebes,  Ombos  and  Philae,  would  have  cheerfully  borne  all 
the  inconveniences  and  delays  of  the  journey,  for  the  Nile's 


KNOAU1NG    A    BOAT.  47 

sake  alone.  Commend  me  to  such  a  man,  for  of  the  hundred* 
of  tourists  who  visit  the  East,  there  are  few  such  !  On  my  ar- 
rival, I  had  found  that  the  rumors  I  had  heard  on  the  road 
respecting  the  number  of  travellers  and  the  rise  in  the  price  ot 
boats,  were  partially  true.  Not  more  than  a  dozen  boats  had 
left  for  Upper  Egypt,  but  the  price  had  been  raised  in  antici- 
pation. The  ship  carpenters  and  painters  were  busily  employ- 
ed all  along  the  shore  at  Boulak,  in  renovating  the  old  barks 
or  building  new  ones,  and  the  Beys  and  Pashas  who  owned  the 
craft  were  anticipating  a  good  harvest.  Some  travellers  paid 
forty-five  pounds  a  month  for  their  vessels,  but  I  found  little 
difficulty  in  getting  a  large  and  convenient  boat,  for  two  per- 
sons, at  twenty  pounds  a  month.  This  price,  it  should  be  un- 
derstood, includes  the  services  of  ten  men,  who  find  their  own 
provisions,  and  only  receive  a  gratuity  in  case  of  good  behavior. 
The  American  Consul,  Mr.  Kahil,  had  kindly  obtained  for  me 
the  promise  of  a  bark  from  Ismail  Pasha,  before  our  arrival — 
a  superb  vessel,  furnished  with  beds,  tables,  chairs  and  divans, 
in  a  very  handsome  style — which  was  offered  at  thirty  pounds 
a  month,  but  it  was  much  larger  than  we  needed.  In  the 
course  of  my  inspection  of  the  fleet  of  barks  at  Boulak,  I  found 
several  which  might  be  had  at  fifteen,  and  seventeen  pounds 
a  month,  but  they  were  old,  inconvenient,  and  full  of  vermin. 
Our  boat,  which  I  named  the  Cleopatra,  had  been  newly  cleansed 
and  painted,  and  contained,  besides  a  spacious  cabin,  with 
beds  and  divans,  a  sort  of  portico  on  the  outside,  with  cush- 
ioned seats,  where  we  proposed  to  sit  during  the  balmy  twi- 
lights, and  smoke  our  shebooks. 

Without  a  tolerable  knowledge  of  Arabic,  a  dragoman  is 
indispensable.     The  few  phrases  I  had  picked  up,  on  the  wnj 


48  JOURNET    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

from  Alexandria,  availed  me  little,  and  would  have  been  use- 
less in  Nubia,  where  either  the  Berberi  language,  or  a  different 
Arabic  dialect  is  spoken  ;  and  I  therefore  engaged  a  dragoman 
for  the  journey.  This  class  of  persons  always  swarm  in  Cairo, 
and  I  had  not  been  there  a  day  before  I  was  visited  by  half  a 
dozen,  who  were  anxious  to  make  the  trip  to  Khartoum.  How 
they  knew  I  was  going  there,  I  cannot  imagine ;  but  I  found 
that  they  knew  the  plans  of  every  traveller  in  Cairo  as  well 
I  endeavored  to  find  one  who  had  already  made  the  journey 
but  of  all  who  presented  themselves,  only  two  had  been  farther 
than  the  second  Cataract.  One  of  these  wag  a  Nubian,  who 
had  made  a  trip  with  the  Sennaar  merchants,  as  far  as  Shendy 
in  Ethiopia ;  but  he  had  a  sinister,  treacherous  face,  and  I  re- 
fused him  at  once.  The  other  was  an  old  man,  named  Suley- 
man  Ali,  who  had  been  for  three  years  a  servant  of  Champol- 
lion,  whose  certificate  of  his  faithfulness  and  honesty  he  pro- 
duced. 

He  had  been  three  years  in  Sennaar,  and  in  addition  to 
Italian,  (the  only  Frank  tongue  he  knew),  spoke  several 
Ethiopian  dialects.  He  was  a  fine,  venerable  figure,  with  an 
honest  face,  and  I  had  almost  decided  to  take  him,  when  I 
learned  that  he  was  in  feeble  health  and  would  scarcely  be  able 
to  endure  the  hardships  of  the  journey.  I  finally  made  choice 
of  a  dark  Egyptian,  born  in  the  valley  of  Thebes.  He  was  call- 
ed Achmet  el  Saidi,  or  Achmet  of  Upper  Egypt,  and  when  a  boy 
oad  been  for  several  years  a  servant  in  the  house  of  the  Eug 
jsh  Consul  at  Alexandria.  He  spoke  English  fluently,  as  well 
as  a  little  Italian  and  Turkish.  I  was  first  attracted  to  him  by 
his  bold,  manly  face,  and  finding  that  his  recommendations  were 
excellent,  and  that  he  had  sufficient  spirit,  courage  and  address 


OUTFIT— FUNDS.  49 

to  serve  us  both  in  case  of  peril,  I  engaged  him,  notwithstand- 
ing he  had  never  travelled  beyond  Wadi  Haifa  (the  Second 
Cataract).  I  judged,  however,  that  I  was  quite  as  familiar 
with  the  geography  of  Central  Africa  as  any  dragoman  I  could 
procure,  and  that,  in  any  case,  I  should  find  it  best  to  form  mj 
own  plans  and  choose  my  own  paths.  How  far  I  was  justified 
in  my  choice,  will  appear  in  the  course  of  the  narrative. 

The  next  step  was  to  procure  a  double  outfit — for  the  Nile 
and  the  Desert — and  herein.  Achmet,  who  had  twice  made  the 
journey  to  Mount  Sinai  and  Petra,  rendered  me  good  service 
I  had  some  general  knowledge  of  what  was  necessary,  but  with- 
out the  advantage  of  his  practical  experience,  should  have  been 
very  imperfectly  prepared.  As  it  was,  many  things  were  for- 
gotten in  the  haste  of  departure,  the  need  of  which  I  felt  when 
it  was  too  late  to  procure  them.  I  had  been  prudent  enough, 
when  in  Vienna,  to  provide  myself  with  Berghaus's  great  map 
of  Arabia  and  the  Valley  of  the  Nile,  which,  with  a  stray  vol- 
ume of  Russegger,  were  my  only  guides.  In  Khartoum,  after 
wards,  I  stumbled  upon  a  copy  of  Hoskins's  Ethiopia.  The 
greater  part  of  my  funds  I  changed  into  Egyptian  silver  med- 
jids,  colonnati,  or  Spanish  pillar-dollars,  and  the  Austrian 
dollar  of  Maria  Theresa,  all  of  which  are  current  as  far  as  Seu- 
naar  and  Abyssinia.  I  also  procured  five  hundred  piastres  in 
copper  pieces  of  five  paras  (about  half  a  cent)  each,  which  were 
contained  in  a  large  palm-basket,  and  made  nearly  an  ass's 
load.  In  addition  to  these  supplies,  I  obtained  from  an  Arine- 
nian  merchant  a  letter  of  credit  on  his  brother  in  Khartoum,  foi 
two  thousand  piastres,  on  which,  he  gave  me  to  understand,  I 
ghould  be  obliged  to  pay  a  discount  of  twenty  per  cent.  I  en- 
deavored, but  in  vain,  to  procure  some  information  relative  tt 
3 


50  JODRNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

the  cost  of  travelling  in  Nubia  and  the  countries  beyond.  Th* 
Frank  merchants  knew  nothing,  except  that  the  expenses  were 
vast,  and  predicted  that  the  sum  I  took  would  prove  insufficient 
and  that  I  should  certainly  become  involved  in  great  difficul- 
ties and  embarrassments.  The  native  merchants  who  had  made 
the  journey  were  all  jealous  of  a  foreign  traveller  attempting 
to  penetrate  into  their  peculiar  domain,  and  gave  me  no  satis- 
factory information,  while  to  the  imagination  of  the  Cairenes, 
Sennaar  is  the  utmost  verge  of  the  world,  and  he  who  has  been 
there  and  returned  in  safety,  enjoys  the  special  protection  of 
Allah.  Even  Achmet,  although  he  showed  no  signs  of  fear, 
and  did  not  hesitate  to  accompany  me,  informed  his  family  and 
friends  that  we  were  going  no  further  than  Wadi  Haifa,  for  he 
said  they  would  certainly  detain  him  by  force,  should  they 
learn  the  truth. 

I  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  obtain  a  firman  from  Abbas 
Pasha,  which  might  readily  have  been  procured.  The  Ameri- 
can, English  and  Austrian  Consuls  kindly  gave  me  letters  to 
the  principal  Consular  agents  and  merchants  in  Khartoum,  be- 
sides which,  Achmet  professed  to  have  some  acquaintance  with 
Lattif  Pasha,  who  was  then  Pasha  of  Soudan.  To  the  Hon. 
Mr.  Murray,  the  English  Consul-General,  and  Mr.  Constautine 
Kahil,  the  American  Vice-Consul  at  Cairo,  I  was  especially 
indebted  for  favors.  The  former  intrusted  me  with  despatches 
for  Khartoum  and  Obeid,  in  Kordofan,  and  the  latter  furnished 
me  with  letters  to  the  Governors  of  Thebes,  Assouan  and  Ko- 
rosko,  asking  the  latter  to  insure  my  safety  on  the  journey 
through  the  Nubian  Desert.  Thus  prepared,  I  anticipated  no 
further  trouble  on  the  road  than  from  hard-trotting  camels 
sand,  brackish  water,  and  the  like  privations,  which  are  easilj 
borne 


OUTFIT    FOR   THE    BOAT.  51 

The  furnishing  of  a  Nile-boat  requires  considerable  know 
ledge  of  housekeeping.  The  number  of  small  articles  required 
for  this  floating  speck  of  civilization  in  a  country  of  barbarians, 
is  amazing  to  a  bachelor.  I  had  no  idea  that  the  art  of  cook- 
ing needed  such  a  variety  of  tools  and  appliances,  and  for  the 
first  time  in  niy  life,  conceived  some  respect  for  the  fame  of  Ude 
and  Soyer.  There  are  frying-pans  and  stew-pans ;  coffee-potp 
and  tea-pots;  knives,  forks,  spoons,  towels,  cups,  ladles  and 
boxes ;  butter,  lard,  flour,  rice,  macaroni,  oil,  vinegar,  mus- 
tard and  pepper ;  and  no  end  to  the  groceries.  We  must  hav« 
a  table  and  chairs,  quilts  and  pillows,  mats,  carpets  and  nap- 
kins, and  many  other  articles  which  I  should  never  hav* 
thought  of  without  the  help  of  Achmet  and  of  M.  Pini,  who 
keeps  a  general  depot  of  supplies.  His  printed  lists,  in  four 
languages,  lighten  the  traveller's  labor  very  greatly.  His  ex- 
perience in  regard  to  the  quantity  required,  is  also  of  much 
service;  otherwise  an  inexperienced  person  would  not  know 
whether  to  take  twelve  or  fifty  pounds  of  rice,  nor  how  much 
sugar  belonged  to  Sv-  much  coffee.  The  expenp"  of  our  outfit, 
including  brea<?  fowls,  mutton,  charcoal,  and  every  othei 
requisite,  was  about  two  thousand  piastres — a  little  more  than 
one  hundred  dollars.  The  calculation  was  made  for  one 
month's  provisions  for  two  persons. 

For  my  further  journey  after  leaving  the  Nile,  I  was 
recommended  to  take  a  large  supply,  on  account  of  the  scarcity 
and  expense  of  many  articles  in  Upper  Nubia  and  Sennaar.  1 
therefore  purchased  sufficient  tea,  coffee,  flour,  rice,  biscuits, 
Bugar,  macaroni  and  dried  fruit  to  last  me  two  months,  beside 
a  complete  canteen,  or  supply  of  articles  necessary  for  life  in 
the  desert  I  took  an  extra  quantity  of  gunpowder,  tobacoc 


52  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

and  coffee,  for  presents  to  the  Arab  shekhs.  The  entire  cost 
of  this  outfit  was  about  nine  hundred  piastres.  In  addition,  ] 
procured  a  good  Turkish  tent  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  pias- 
tres, to  which  I  added  a  supply  of  tent-pins,  lantern-poles,  wa- 
ter-skins, and  leathern  water-flasks,  all  these  articles  being  pro- 
cured to  better  advantage  in  Cairo.  I  did  not  propose  adopt- 
ing the  Egyptian  costume  until  I  had  made  some  progress  in 
the  language,  and  therefore  contented  myself  with  purchasing 
a  bornous  of  camel's  hair,  a  sabre,  a  broad  shawl  of  Tripoli 
silk,  for  the  waist,  and  shoes  of  white  leather,  which  are  very 
cool  and  comfortable.  I  also  followed  the  custom  of  the  Euro- 
pean residents,  in  having  my  hair  shorn  close  to  the  head,  and 
wearing  a  white  cotton  skull-cap.  Over  this  was  drawn  the 
red  tarboosh,  or  fez,  and  as  a  protection  against  the  sun,  I 
bound  a  large  white  shawl  around  it,  which  was  my  first  les- 
BOII  in  turban-making. 

Achmet,  influenced  by  a  superstition  which  is  not  peculiar 
to  the  East,  begged  me  to  hasten  our  preparations,  in  order 
that  we  might  leave  Boulak  on  Monday,  which  day,  he  averred, 
was  the  luckiest  in  the  week,  and  would  render  our  journey 
prosperous  from  beginning  to  end.  Knowing  from  experience 
that  half  the  success  of  the  journey  is  in  the  start,  and  believ- 
ing that  it  is  better  to  have  superstition  with  you  than  against 
you,  I  determined  to  gratify  him.  He  was  as  zealous  as  I 
could  wish,  and  we  rested  not  from  morning  to  night,  until  at 
last,  from  the  spirit  with  which  we  labored,  it  seemed  almost  a 
matter  of  life  and  death,  that  the  boat  should  leave  on  Mon- 
day.  I  had  a  clause  inserted  in  our  written  contract  with  the 
captain,  that  he  should  forfeit  a  day's  rent,  in  case  he  was  not 
ready  at  the  appointed  houi  but,  in  spite  of  this  precaution 


THE    LUCKY   DAT.  53 

Aohinet,  who  well  knew  the  indifference  of  the  Arab  nature 
was  constantly  on  his  track  Two  or  three  times  a  day  he 
galloped  to  Boulak,  to  hasten  the  enlistment  of  the  men,  the 
baking  of  bread  for  the  voyage,  the  furbishing  of  the  cabin 
and  the  overhauling  of  the  sails,  oars  and  rigging.  My  Euro 
yean  friends  in  Cairo  smiled  at  our  display  of  activity,  saying 
that  such  a  thing  had  never  been  known,  as  a  boat  sailing  ai 
the  appointed  time,  and  that  I  was  fatiguing  myaelf  to  no 
purpose. 

Monday  (Nov.  17th)  came,  and  the  Egyptian  cook,  Sa 
lame,  whom  we  had  engaged  for  the  Nile  voyage,  was  de- 
spatched to  the  markets  to  lay  in  a  supply  of  fowls,  eggs,  but- 
ter and  vegetables.  My  letters  home — the  last  I  expected 
to  send,  for  months  to  come — were  committed  to  the  Post 
Office,  and  after  an  early  dinner,  we  saw  our  baggage  and 
stores  laden  upon  carts  and  started  for  Boulak,  under  Ach- 
met's  guidance.  We  took  leave  of  the  few  friends  we  had 
made  in  Cairo,  and  followed.  The  Cleopatra  was  still  lying 
in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  dahabiyehs,  but  the  American  flag, 
hoisted  at  tho  peak  of  her  little  mizzenmast,  was  our  "  cornet,'' 
proclaiming  departure.  We  found  Achmet  unjacketed  and 
unturbaued,  stowing  away  the  stores,  with  one  eye  on  the 
rais,  and  another  (as  it  seemed  to  me)  on  each  of  the  tardy 
sailors.  There  was  still  charcoal  to  be  bought,  and  bois  grat 
for  kindling  fires,  and  clubs  for  the  men,  to  prevent  invasions 
from  the  shore,  with  many  more  of  those  wants  which  are 
never  remembered  until  the  last  moment  The  afternoon  wore 
away;  the  shadows  of  the  feathery  date-trees  on  the  island 
of  Rhoda  stretched  long  and  cool  across  the  Nile ;  but  before 
the  sun  had  touched  the  tops  of  the  Pyramids,  we  had  squeezed 


54  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

out  from  the  shipping  of  Boulak,  and  were  slowly  working  up 
the  Nile  before  a  light  wind,  while  our  boatmen  thumped  the 
tarabooka,  and  sang  their  wild  Arab  songs  of  departure.  The 
rais  came  up  to  know  whether  he  had  not  fulfilled  his  contract 
and  Achmet  with  a  cheerful  face,  turned  to  me  and  said  : 
-  1  raised  be  Allah,  master  1  we  shall  have  a  lucky  journey/' 


Achniet 
CHAPTER     V  . 

THE    PYRAMID?    AND    MEMPHIS. 

flowiing  Dervishes — A  Chicken  Factory — Ride  to  the  Pyramids — Quarrel  with  thi 
Arabs — The  Ascent — View  from  the  Summit — Backsheesb — Effect  of  Pyramid 
climbing-The  Sphinx— Playing  the  Cadi— We  obtain  Justice— Visit  to  8akkw_ 
and  the  Mummy  Pits — The  Exhumation  of  Memphis — Interview  with  M.  Mar.PtU 
-Account  of  his  Discoveries— Statue  of  Barneses  II.— Return  to  the  Nile. 

"And  Morning  opes  in  haste  her  lids, 
To  gaze  upon  tho  Pyramids.'1 — EMERSON. 

WE  went  no  further  than  the  village  of  Gizeh,  three  or  four 
miles  above  Cairo,  on  the  first  evening,  having  engaged  GUI 
donkeys  and  their  drivers  to  meet  us  there  and  convey  us  tc 
the  Pyramids  on  the  following  morning.  About  dusk,  the  raif 
moored  our  boat  to  the  bank,  beside  a  College  of  dervishes, 
whose  unearthly  chants,  choruses  and  clapping  of  hands,  were 
prolonged  far  into  the  night.  Their  wild  cries,  and  deep,  mo 


56  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

notorious  bass  bowlings  so  filled  our  ears  that  we  could  not 
choose  but  listen,  and  in  spite  of  our  fatigue  sleep  was  impos- 
sible. After  performing  for  several  hours,  they  gradually 
ceased,  through  sheer  exhaustion,  though  there  was  one  tough 
old  dervish,  who  continued  to  gasp  out,  "Allah!  Allah'9' 
with  such  a  spasmodic  energy,  that  I  suspected  it  was  pro- 
duced by  the  involuntary  action  of  his  larynx,  and  that  he 
could  not  have  stopped,  even  had  he  been  so  minded. 

When  we  threw  open  the  latticed  blinds  of  our  cabin,  be- 
fore sunrise,  the  next  morning,  the  extraordinary  purity  of  th<< 
air  gave  rise  to  an  amusing  optical  delusion  on  the  part  of  my 
friend.  "  See  that  wall ! "  said  he,  pointing  to  a  space  be- 
tween two  white  houses  ;  "  what  a  brilliant  color  it  is  painted, 
and  how  those  palms  and  these  white  houses  are  relieved 
against  it  1 "  He  was  obliged  to  look  twice  before  he  per- 
ceived that  what  he  had  taken  for  a  wall  close  at  hand,  was 
really  the  sky,  and  rested  upon  a  far-off  horizon.  Our  don- 
keys were  in  readiness  on  the  bank,  and  I  bestrode  the  same 
faithful  little  gray  who  had  for  three  days  carried  me  through 
the  bazaars  of  Cairo.  We  left  orders  for  the  rais  to  go  on  to 
Bedracheyu,  a  village  near  the  supposed  site  of  Memphis,  and 
taking  Achmet  with  us,  rode  off  gayly  among  the  mud  hovels 
and  under  the  date-trees  of  Gizeh,  on  our  way  to  the  Pyramids. 
Near  the  extremity  of  the  village,  we  entered  one  of  the  larg 
chicken-hatching  establishments  for  which  the  place  is  famed 
but  found  it  empty.  We  disturbed  a  numerous  family  of  Fel 
lahs,  couched  together  on  the  clay  floor,  crept  on  our  hands 
and  knees  through  two  small  holes  and  inspected  sundry  ovens 
covered  with  a  layer  of  chaff,  and  redolent  of  a  mild,  moist 
heat  and  a  feathery  smell  The  owner  informed  us  that  for 


RIDE    TO    THE    PYRAMIDS.  O) 

the  first  four  or  five  days  the  eggs  were  exposed  to  smoke  as 
well  as  heat,  and  that  when  the  birds  began  to  pick  the  shell, 
which  generally  took  place  in  fifteen  days,  they  were  placed  in 
another  oven  and  carefully  accouched 

The  rising  sun  shone  redly  on  the  Pyramids,  as  we  roa< 
c>ut  on  the  broad  harvest  land  of  the  Nile.  Thu  black 
unctuous  loam  was  still  too  moist  from  the  inundation  to  be 
ploughed,  except  in  spots,  here  and  there,  but  even  where  the 
water  had  scarce  evaporated,  millions  of  germs  were  pushing 
their  slender  blades  up  to  the  sunshine.  In  that  prolific  soil, 
the  growth  of  grain  is  visible  from  day  to  day.  The  Fellahs 
were  at  work  on  all  sides,  preparing  for  planting,  and  the  un 
gainly  buffaloes  drew  their  long  ploughs  slowly  through  the  soil 
Where  freshly  turned,  the  earth  had  a  rich,  soft  lustre,  like 
dark-brown  velvet,  beside  which  the  fields  of  young  wheat, 
beans  and  lentils,  glittered  with  the  most  brilliant  green. 
The  larks  sang  in  the  air  and  flocks  of  white  pigeons  clustered 
like  blossoms  on  the  tops  of  the  sycamores.  There,  in  Novem- 
ber, it  was  the  freshest  and  most  animating  picture  of  Spring. 
The  direct  road  to  the  Pyramids  was  impassable,  on  account 
of  the  water,  and  we  rode  along  the  top  of  a  dyke,  intersected 
by  canals,  to  the  edge  of  the  Libyan  Desert — a  distance  of 
nearly  ten  miles.  The  ruptures  in  the  dyke  obliged  us  occa- 
sionally to  dismount,  and  at  the  last  canal,  which  cuts  off  the 
advancing  sands  from  the  bounteous  plain  on  the  other  side, 
our  donkeys  were  made  to  swim,  while  we  were  carried  across 
011  the  shoulders  of  two  naked  Arabs.  They  had  run  out  in 
advance  to  meet  us,  hailing  us  with  many  English  and  French 
phrases,  while  half  a  dozen  boys,  with  earthen  bottles  which 
they  had  just  filled  from  the  slimy  canal,  crowded  after  theiu, 


OS  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

insisting,  in  very  good  English,  that  we  should  drink  at  once, 
and  take  them  with  us  to  the  Pyramids. 

Our  donkeys'  hoofs  now  sank  deep  in  the  Libyan  sands, 
and  we  looked  up  to  the  great  stone-piles  of  Cheops,  Ce- 
phrenes  and  Mycerinus,  not  more  than  half  a  mile  distant. 
Our  sunrise  view  of  the  Pyramids  on  leaving  Gizeh,  was  suffi- 
cient, had  I  gone  no  further,  and  I  approached  them,  without 
the  violent  emotion  which  sentimental  travellers  experience, 
but  with  a  quiet  feeling  of  the  most  perfect  satisfaction.  The 
form  of  the  pyramid  is  so  simple  and  complete,  that  nothing  is 
left  to  the  imagination.  Those  vast,  yellowish-gray  masses, 
whose  feet  are  wrapped  in  the  silent  sacd,  and  whose  tops  lean 
against  the  serene  blue  heaven,  enter  the  mind  and  remain  in 
the  memory  with  no  shock  of  surprise,  no  stir  of  unexpected 
admiration.  The  impression  they  give  and  leave,  is  calm, 
grand  and  enduring  as  themselves. 

The  sun  glared  hot  on  the  sand  as  we  toiled  up  the  ascent 
to  the  base  of  Cheops,  whose  sharp  corners  were  now  broken 
into  zigzags  by  the  layers  of  stone.  As  we  dismounted  in  his 
shadow,  at  the  foot  of  the  path  which  leads  up  to  the  entrance, 
on  the  northern  side,  a  dozen  Arabs  beset  us.  They  belonged 
to  the  regular  herd  who  have  the  Pyramids  in  charge,  and  are 
so  renowned  for  their  impudence  that  it  is  customary  to  employ 
the  janissary  of  some  Consulate  in  Cairo,  as  a  protection.  Be- 
fore leaving  Gizeh  I  gave  Achmet  my  sabre,  which  I  thought 
would  be  a  sufficient  show  to  secure  us  from  their  importuni- 
ties. However,  when  we  had  mounted  to  the  entrance  and 
were  preparing  to  climb  to  the  summit,  they  demanded  a  dollai 
from  each  for  their  company  on  the  way.  This  was  just  foul 
times  the  usual  fee,  and  we  flatly  refused  the  demand.  Mj 


59 

friend  had  in  the  mean  time  becomo  so  giddy  from  the  few 
steps  lie  had  mounted,  that  he  decided  to  return,  and  I 
ordered  Aehinet,  \vliu  knew  the  way,  to  go  on  with  me  and 
leave  the  Arabs  to  their  bowlings.  Their  leader  instantly 
sprang  before  him  and  attempted  to  force  him  back.  This 
was  too  much  for  Achmet,  who  thrust  the  man  aside,  where- 
upon lie  was  instantly  beset  by  three  or  four,  and  received 
several  ha  I'd  blows.  The  struggle  took  place  just  on  the  verge 
of  the  stones,  and  he  was  prudent  enough  to  drag  his  assail- 
ants into  the  open  space  before  the  entrance  of  the  Pyramid. 
My  friend  sprang  towards  the  group  with  his  cane,  and  I 
called  to  the  donkey-driver  to  bring  up  my  sabre,  but  by  this 
time  Achmet  had  released  himself  with  the  loss  of  his  turban. 
The  Arabs,  who  had  threatened  to  treat  us  in  the  same 
manner,  then  reduced  their  demand  to  the  regular  fee  of  five 
piastres  for  each.  I  took  three  of  them  and  commenced  th« 
ascent,  leaving  Achmet  and  uiy  friend  below.  Two  boys  fo> 
lowed  us,  with  bottles  of  water.  At  first,  the  way  seeimn, 
hazardous,  for  the  stones  were  covered  with  sand  and  fragments 
which  had  fallen  from  above,  but  after  we  had  mounted  twenty 
courses,  the  hard,  fcinootk  blocks  of  granite  formed  broader  and 
more  secure  steps.  Two  Arabs  went  before,  one  holding  each 
of  my  hands,  while  the  third  shoved  me  up  from  the  rear. 
The  assistance  thus  rendered  was  not  slight,  for  few  of  the 
stones  are  less  than  four  feet  in  height.  The  water-boys 
scampered  up  beside  us  with  the  agility  of  cats.  We  stopped 
a  moment  to  take  breath,  at  a  sort  of  resting-place  half-way 
up — an  opening  in  the  Pyramid,  communicating  with  the 
uppermost  of  the  interior  chambers.  I  had  no  sooner  sal 
down  on  the  nearest  stone,  than  the  Arabs  stretched  themselves 


60  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

at  my  feet  and  entertained  me  with  most  absurd  mixture  of 
flattery  and  menace.  One.  putting  the  calves  of  my  legs,  cried 
out:  "Oh,  what  fine,  strong  legs!  how  fa-t  they  came  up; 
nobody  ever  went  up  the  Pyramid  so  fast!"  while  the  others 
added  :  "  Here  you  must  give  us  backsheesh  :  every  body  gives 
us  a  dollar  here."  My  only  answer  was,  to  get  up  and  begin 
climbing,  and  they  did  not  cease  pulling  and  pushing  till  they 
left  me  breathless  on  the  summit.  The  whole  ascent  did  not 
occupy  more  than  ten  minutes. 

The  view  from  Cheops  has  been  often  described.  I  cannot 
say  that  it  increased  my  impression  of  the  majesty  and  gran- 
deur of  the  Pyramid,  for  that  was  already  complete.  My  eyes 
wandered  off  from  the  courses  of  granite,  broadening  away 
below  my  feet,  to  contemplate  the  glorious  green  of  the  Nile- 
plain,  barred  with  palm-trees  and  divided  by  the  gleaming  flood 
of  the  ancient  river ;  the  minarets  of  Cairo ;  the  purple  walls 
of  the  far  Arabian  mountains ;  the  Pyramid  groups  of  Sakkara 
and  Dashoor,  overlooking  disinterred  Memphis  in  the  South ; 
and  the  arid  yellow  waves  of  the  Libyan  Desert,  which  rolled 
unbroken  to  the  western  sky.  The  clear,  open  heaven  above, 
which  seemed  to  radiate  light  from  its  entii  e  concave,  clasped 
in  its  embrace  and  harmonized  the  different  features  of  this 
wonderful  landscape.  There  was  too  much  warmth  and  bril- 
liance for  desolation.  Every  thing  was  alive  and  real ;  the 
Pyramids  were  not  ruins,  and  the  dead  Pharaohs,  the  worship- 
pers of  Athor  and  Apis,  did  not  once  enter  my  mind. 

My  wild  attendants  did  not  long  allow  me  to  enjoy  the 
view  quietly.  To  escape  from  their  importunities  for  back- 
sheesh,  I  gave  them  two  piastres  in  copper  coin,  which  instantly 
turned  their  flatteries  into  the  most  bitter  complaints.  It  waa 


PHYSICAL    EFFECT    OF    THE    ASCK.VT.  61 

insulting-  to  trive  so  little,  and  they  preferred  having  none;  if 
I  would  not  give  a  dollar  I  might  take  the  money  back.  I 
took  it  without  more  ado,  and  put  it  into  my  pocket.  This 
rather  surprised  them,  and  lirst  one,  and  then  another  came 
to  me  and  begged  to  have  it  again,  on  his  own  private  account 
I  threw  the  coins  high  into  the  air,  and  as  they  clattered  down 
on  the  stones,  there  ensued  such  a  scramble  as  wouW  have  sent 
any  but  Arabs  over  the  edge  of  the  Pyramid.  We  then  com- 
menced the  descent,  two  seizing  my  hands  as  before,  and  drag- 
ging me  headlong  after  them.  We  went  straight  down  the 
side,  sliding  and  leaping  from  stone  to  stone  without  stopping 
to  take  breath,  and  reached  the  base  in  five  or  six  minutes.  I 
was  so  excited  from  the  previous  aggression  of  the  Arabs,  that 
I  neither  felt  fatigue  nor  giddiness  on  the  way  up  and  down, 
and  was  not  aware  how  violent  had  been  my  exertions.  But 
when  I  touched  the  level  sand,  all  my  strength  vanished  in  an 
instant.  A  black  mist  came  over  my  eyes,  and  I  sank  down 
helpless  and  nearly  insensible.  I  was  scarcely  able  to  speak, 
and  it  was  an  hour  before  I  could  sit  upright  on  my  donkey. 
I  felt  the  Pyramid  hi  all  my  bones,  and  for  two  or  three  days 
afterwards  moved  my  joints  with  as  much  difficulty  as  a  rheu 
matic  patient. 

The  Arabs,  who  at  first  had  threatened  to  kill  Achmet, 
now  came  forward  and  kissed  his  hands,  humbly  entreating 
pardon.  But  his  pride  had  been  too  severely  touched  by  the 
blows  he  had  received,  and  he  repulsed  them,  spitting  upon 
the  ground,  as  the  strongest  mark  of  contempt.  We  consider- 
ed it  due  to  him,  to  Mirselves,  and  to  other  travellers  after  us, 
to  represent  the  matter  to  the  Shekh  of  the  Pyramids,  whc 
lives  in  a  village  called  Kinuayseh,  a  mile  distant,  and  ordered 


OPRNRV      K         -RVTKAl 


Achraet  to  conduct  us  thither.     We  first  rode  along  the  u& 
of  the  Pyramid  of  Cephrenes,  and  down  the  sand  drifts  to  th. 
majestic  head  of  the  Sphinx.     I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe 
this  enormous  relic  of  Egyptian  art.     There  is  nothing  like  il 
in  the  world.     Those  travellers  who  pronounce  its  features  to 
be  negro  in  their  character,  are  certainly  very  hasty  in  theh 
conclusions.     That  it  is  an  Egyptian  head  is  plainly  evident, 
notwithstanding  its  mutilation.      The  type,  however,  is  rather 
fuller  and  broader  than  is  usual  in  Egyptian  statues. 

On  reaching  the  village  we  found  that  the  shekh  was  ab- 
sent in  Cairo,  but  were  received  by  his  son,  who,  after  spelling 
out  a  few  words  of  my  Arabic  passport  and  hearing  Achmet'a 
relation  of  the  affair,  courteously  invited  us  to  his  house.  We 
rode  between  the  mud  huts  to  a  small  court-yard,  where  we 
dismounted.  A  carpet  was  spread  on  the  ground,  under  a 
canopy  of  palm-leaves,  and  the  place  of  honor  was  given  to  us 
the  young  shekh  seating  himself  on  the  edge,  while  our  don- 
key-drivers, water-boys  and  a  number  of  villagers,  stood  res- 
pectfully around.  A  messenger  was  instantly  despatched  tc 
the  Pyramids,  and  in  the  mean  time  we  lighted  the  pipe  of 
j>eace.  The  shekh  promised  to  judge  the  guilty  parties  and 
punish  them  in  our  presence.  Coffee  was  ordered,  but  as  the 
unlucky  youth  returned  and  indiscreetly  cried  out,  "Ma 
feesh  !  "  (there  is  none  !)  the  shekh  took  him  by  the  neck, 
and  run  him  out  of  the  court-yard,  threatening  him  with  all 
manner  of  penalties  unless  he  brought  it. 

We  found  ourselves  considered  in  the  light  of  judges,  and 
I  thought  involuntarily  of  the  children  playing  Cadi,  in  the 
Arabian  tale.  But  to  play  our  Cadi  with  the  necessary  gravi- 
ty of  countenance  was  a  difficult  matter.  It  was  rather  em- 


FIAYIKO    THE    OAD1.  63 

barrassing  to  sit  cross-legged  so  long,  and  to  look  so  severe 
My  face  was  of  the  color  of  a  boiled  lobster,  from  the  sun,  and 
in  order  to  protect  my  eyes,  I  had  taken  off  my  cravat  and 
bound  it  around  the  red  tarboosh.  My  friend  had  swathed  his 
felt  hat  in  like  manner,  and  when  the  shekh  looked  at  us  front 
time  to  time,  while  Achmet  spoke  of  our  friendship  with  all 
the  Consuls  in  Cairo,  it  was  almost  too  much  to  enjoy  quietly 
However,  the  shekh,  who  wore  a  red  cap  and  a  single  cotton 
garment,  treated  us  with  much  respect.  His  serene,  impar- 
tial demeanor,  as  he  heard  the  testimony  of  the  various  wit- 
nesses  who  were  called  up,  was  mobt  admirable.  After  half 
an  hour's  delay,  the  messenger  returned,  and  the  guilty  par- 
ties were  brought  into  court,  looking  somewhat  alarmed  and 
very  submissive.  We  identified  the  two  ringleaders,  and  after 
considering  the  matter  thoroughly,  the  shekh  ordered  that 
they  should  be  instantly  bastinadoed.  We  decided  between 
ourselves  to  let  the  punishment  commence,  lest  the  matter 
should  not  be  considered  sufficiently  serious,  and  then  to  show 
our  mercy  by  pardoning  the  culprits. 

One  of  the  men  was  then  thrown  on  the  ground  and  held 
by  the  head  and  feet,  while  the  shekh  took  a  stout  rod  and 
began  administering  the  blows.  The  victim  had  prepared 
himself  by  giving  his  bornous  a  double  turn  over  his  back,  and 
as  the  end  of  the  rod  struck  the  ground  each  time,  there  was 
much  sound  with  the  veriest  farce  of  punishment.  After  half 
a  dozen  strokes,  he  cried  out,  "  ya  salaam  !  "  whereupon  the 
crowd  laughed  heartily,  and  my  friend  ordered  the  shekh  to 
9top.  The  latter  cast  the  rod  at  our  feet,  and  asked  us  to 
continue  the  infliction  ourselves,  until  we  were  satisfied.  We 
cold  him  and  the  company  in  general,  through  Achmet,  thai 


64  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

we  were  convinced  of  his  readiness  to  punish  imposition  ;  that 
we  wished  to  show  the  Arabs  that  they  must  in  future  treat 
travellers  with  respect ;  that  we  should  send  word  of  the  atfan 
to  Cairo,  and  they  might  rest  assured  that  a  second  assault 
would  be  more  severely  dealt  with.  Since  *his  had  beei 
demonstrated,  we  were  willing  that  the  punishment  should  now 
cease,  and  in  conclusion  returned  our  thanks  to  the  shekh,  for 
his  readiness  to  do  us  justice.  This  decision  was  received 
with  great  favor ;  the  two  culprits  came  forward  and  kissed 
our  hands  and  those  of  Achmet,  and  the  villagers  pronounced 
a  unanimous  sentence  of  "  tail ! "  (good  !)  The  indiscreet 
youth  again  appeared,  and  this  time  with  coffee,  of  which  we 
partook  with  much  relish,  for  this  playing  the  Cadi  was  rather 
fatiguing.  The  shekh  raised  our  hands  to  his  forehead,  and 
accompanied  us  to  the  end  of  the  village,  where  we  gave  the 
coffee-bearer  a  backsheesh,  dismissed  our  water-boys,  and 
turned  our  donkeys'  heads  toward  Abousir. 

Achmet's  dark  skin  was  pale  from  his  wounded  pride,  and  I 
was  faint  from  pyramid-climbing,  but  a  cold  fowl,  eaten  as  we 
sat  in  the  sun,  on  the  border  of  the  glowing  Desert,  comforted 
us.  The  dominion  of  the  sand  has  here  as  distinct  a  bound 
as  that  of  the  sea ;  there  is  not  thirty  yards  from  the  black, 
pregnant  loam,  to  the  fiery  plain,  where  no  spear  of  grass 
grows.  Our  path  lay  sometimes  on  one  side  of  this  border, 
sometimes  on  the  other,  for  more  than  an  hour  and  a  half>  till 
we  reached  the  ruined  pyramids  of  Abousir,  where  it  turned 
southward  into  the  Desert.  After  seeing  Cheops  and  Ce- 
phrenes,  these  pyramids  are  only  interesting  on  account  of 
their  dilapidated  state  and  the  peculiarity  of  their  forms,  some 
of  their  sides  taking  a  more  obtuse  angle  at  half  their  height 


SAKKARA    AND    MEMPHIS.  68 

They  are  buried  deep  ID  the  sand,  which  has  so  drifted  to  ware 
the  plain,  that  from  the  broad  hollow  lying  between  them  ana 
the  group  of  Sakkara,  more  than  a  mile  distant,  every  sign  or 
vegetation  is  shut  out.  Vast,  sloping  causeways  of  masonry 
lead  up  to  two  of  them,  and  a  large  mound,  occupying  the 
space  between,  suggests  the  idea  that  a  temple  formerly  stood 
there  The  whole  of  the  desert  promontory,  which  seemed  to 
have  been  gradually  blown  out  on  the  plain,  from  the  hills  in 
the  rear,  exhibits  traces  here  and  there  of  ruins  beneath  the 
surface.  My  friend  and  I,  as  we  walked  over  the  hot  sand, 
before  our  panting  donkeys,  came  instinctively  to  the  same 
conclusion — that  a  large  city  must  have  once  occupied  the 
space  between,  and  to  the  southward  of,  the  two  groups  of 
pyramids.  It  is  not  often  that  amateur  antiquarians  find  such 
sudden  and  triumphant  confirmation  of  their  conjectures,  as 
we  did. 

On  the  way,  Achmet  had  told  us  of  a  Frenchman  who  had 
been  all  summer  digging  in  the  sand,  near  Sakkara.  After  we 
had  crawled  into  the  subterranean  dep&t  of  mummied  ibises, 
and  nearly  choked  ourselves  with  dust  in  trying  to  find  a  pot 
not  broken  open;  and  after  one  of  our  donkeymen  went  into  a 
human  mummy  pit  and  brought  out  the  feet  and  legs  of  some 
withered  old  Egyptian,  we  saw  before  us  the  residence  of  this 
Frenchman ;  a  mud  hut  on  a  high  sand-bank.  It  was  an  un- 
fortunate building,  for  nearly  all  the  front  wall  had  tumbled 
down,  revealing  the  contents  of  his  kitchen.  One  or  two 
Arabs  loitered  about,  but  a  large  number  were  employed  at 
the  end  of  a  long  trench  which  extended  to  the  hills. 

Before  reaching  the  house  a  number  of  deep  pits  barred 
nir  path,  and  the  loose  sand,  stirred  by  our  foet,  slid  back  rate 


W1  JO'.'RNB'      I 

|he  bottom,  as  if  eager  to  hide  the  wonders  they  disclose^ 
Pavements,  fresh  as  when  first  laid  ;  basement-walls  of  whit* 
marble,  steps,  doorways,  pedestals  and  fragments  of  pillan 
glittered  in  the  sun,  which,  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  two 
thousand  years,  beheld  them  again.  I  slid  down  the  side  of 
the  pit  and  walked  in  the  streets  of  Memphis.  The  pavement 
of  bitumen,  which  once  covered  the  stone  blocks,  apparently  to 
protect  them  and  deaden  tl.e  noise  of  horses  and  chariots,  wa« 
entire  in  many  places.  Here  a  marble  sphinx  sat  at  the  base 
of  a  temple,  and  stared  abstractedly  before  her;  there  a  sculp- 
tured cornice,  with  heavy  mouldings,  leaned  against  the  walls 
of  the  chamber  into  which  it  had  fallen,  and  over  all  were 
scattered  fragments  of  glazed  and  painted  tiles-  and  sculptured 
alabaster.  The  principal  street  was  narrow,  and  was  appa- 
rently occupied  by  private  dwellings,  but  at  its  extremity  were 
the  basement- walls  of  a  spacious  edifice.  All  the  pits  opened 
on  pavements  and  walls,  so  fresh  and  cleanly  cut,  that  they 
seemed  rather  the  foundations  of  a  new  city,  laid  yesterday, 
than  the  remains  of  one  of  the  oldest  capitals  of  the  world. 

We  approached  the  workmen,  where  we  met  the  discoverer 
of  Memphis,  Mr.  Auguste  Mariette.  On  finding  we  were  not 
Englishmen  (of  whose  visits  he  appeared  to  be  rather  shy),  he 
became  very  courteous  and  communicative.  He  apologized 
for  the  little  he  had  to  show  us,  since  on  account  of  the  Van 
dalism  jf  the  Arabs,  he  was  obliged  to  cover  up  all  his  discov- 
eries, after  making  his  drawings  and  measurements.  Th« 
Egyptian  authorities  are  worse  than  apathetic,  for  they  would 
not  hesitate  to  burn  the  sphinxes  for  lime,  and  build  barraeki 
for  filthy  soldiers  with  the  marble  blocks.  Besides  this,  the 
French  influence  at  Cairo  was  then  entirely  overshadowed  by 


M.  MARIKTTE    AND    HIS    LABORS.  67 

that  of  England,  and  although  M.  Mariette  was  supported  in 
his  labors  by  the  French  Academy,  and  a  subscription  headed 
by  Louis  Napoleon's  name,  he  was  forced  to  be  content  with 
the  simple  permission  to  dig  out  these  remarkable  ruins  and 
describe  them.  He  could  neither  protect  them  nor  remove 
the  portable  sculptures  and  inscriptions,  and  therefore  prefer- 
red giving  them  again  into  the  safe  keeping  of  the  sand. 
Here  they  will  be  secure  from  injury,  until  some  more  fortu- 
nate period,  when,  possibly,  the  lost  Memphis  may  be  entirely 
given  to  the  world,  as  fresh  as  Pompeii,  and  far  more  grand 
and  imposing. 

I  asked  M.  Mariette  what  first  induced  him  to  dig  for  Mem- 
phis in  that  spot,  since  antiquarians  had  fixed  upon  the  mounds 
near  Mitrahenny  (a  village  in  the  plain  below,  and  about  four 
miles  distant),  as  the  former  site  of  the  city.  He  said  that 
the  tenor  of  an  inscription  which  he  found  on  one  of  the  blocks 
quarried  out  of  these  mounds,  induced  him  to  believe  that  the 
principal  part  of  the  city  lay  to  the  westward,  and  therefore 
he  commenced  excavating  in  the  nearest  sand-hill  in  that  di- 
rection. After  sinking  pits  in  various  places  he  struck  on  an 
avenue  of  sphinxes,  the  clue  to  all  his  after  discoveries.  Fol 
lowing  this,  he  came  upon  the  remains  of  a  temple  (probably 
the  Serapeum,  or  Temple  of  Serapis,  mentioned  by  Strabo) 
and  afterward  upon  streets,  colonnades,  public  and  private  edi- 
fices, and  all  other  signs  of  a  great  city.  The  number  of 
sphinxes  alone,  buried  under  these  high  sand-drifts,  amounted 
to  two  thousand,  and  he  had  frequently  uncovered  twenty  01 
thirty  in  a  day.  He  estimated  the  entire  number  of  statues, 
inscriptions  and  reliefs,  at  between  four  and  five  thousand. 
The  most  remarkable  discovery  was  that  of  eight  colosaaJ 


88  JOURNET    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

statues,  which  were  evidently  the  product  of  Grecian  art 
During  thirteen  months  of  assiduous  labor,  with  but  one  a* 
eistant,  he  had  made  drawings  of  all  these  objects  and  forward- 
ed them  to  Paris  In  order  to  be  near  at  hand,  he  had  built 
an  Arab  house  of  unburnt  bricks,  the  walls  of  which  had  jusi 
tambled  down  for  the  third  time.  His  workmen  were  then 
engaged  in  clearing  away  the  sand  from  the  dwelling  of  some 
old  Memphian,  and  he  intended  spreading  his  roof  over  the 
massive  walls,  and  making  his  residence  in  the  exhumed  city. 

The  man's  appearance  showed  what  he  had  undergone,  and 
gave  me  an  idea  of  the  extraordinary  zeal  and  patiense  requir- 
ed to  make  a  successful  antiquarian.  His  face  was  as  browr 
as  an  Arab's,  his  eyes  severely  inflamed,  and  his  hands  as 
rough  as  a  bricklayer's.  His  manner  with  the  native  work- 
men was  admirable,  and  they  labored  with  a  hearty  good-will 
which  almost  supplied  the  want  of  the  needful  implements. 
All  they  had  were  straw  Baskets,  which  they  filled  with  a  sort 
of  rude  shovel,  and  then  handed  up  to  be  carried  off  on  the 
heads  of  others.  One  of  the  principal  workmen  was  deaf  and 
dumb,  but  the  funniest  Arab  I  ever  saw.  He  was  constantly 
playing  off  his  jokes  on  those  who  were  too  slow  or  too  negli- 
gent. An  unlucky  girl,  stooping  down  at  the  wrong  time  to 
lift  a  basket  of  sand,  received  the  contents  of  another  on  her 
head,  and  her  indignant  outcry  was  hailed  by  the  rest  with 
screams  of  laughter.  I  saw  the  same  man  pick  out  of  the  sand 
a  glazed  tile  containing  hieroglyphic  characters.  The  gravity 
with  which  he  held  it  before  him,  feigning  to  peruse  it,  occa- 
sionally nodding  his  head,  as  if  to  say,  "Well  done  for  old 
Pharaoh  :"  could  not  have  been  excelled  by  Burton  himself. 

Strabo  states  that  Memphis  had  a  circumference  of  seven 


M.  MARIKTTK     AND    HIS    LABORS.  61 

teen  miles,  and  therefore  both  M.  Mariette  and  the  antiqua- 
rians are  right.  The  mounds  of  Mitrahenny  probably  mark 
the  eastern  portion  of  the  city,  while  its  western  limit  extend- 
ed beyond  the  Pyramids  of  Sakkara,  and  included  in  its  sub- 
urbs those  of  Abousir  and  Dashoor.  The  space  explored  by 
M.  Mariette  is  about  a  mile  and  a  half  in  length,  and  some- 
what more  than  half  a  mile  in  breadth.  He  was  then  continu- 
ing his  excavations  westward,  and  had  almost  reached  the  first 
ridge  of  the  Libyan  Hills,  without  finding  the  termination  of 
the  ruins.  The  magnitude  of  his  discovery  will  be  best  known 
when  his  drawings  and  descriptions  are  given  to  the  world. 
A  few  months  after  my  visit,  his  labors  were  further  re- 
warded by  finding  thirteen  colossal  sarcophagi  of  black  marble, 
and  he  has  recently  added  to  his  renown  by  discovering  an  en- 
trance to  the  Sphinx.  Yet  at  that  time,  the  exhumation  of 
the  lost  Memphis — second  only  in  importance  to  that  of  Nine- 
veh— was  unknown  in  Europe,  except  to  a  few  savans  in  Paris, 
and  the  first  intimation  which  some  of  my  friends  in  Cairo  and 
Alexandria  had  of  it,  was  my  own  account  of  my  visit,  in  the 
newspapers  they  received  from  America.  But  M.  Mariette  is 
a  young  man,  and  will  yet  see  his  name  inscribed  beside  those 
of  Burckhardt,  Belzoni  and  Layard. 

We  had  still  a  long  ride  before  us,  and  I  took  leave  of 
Memphis  and  its  discoverer,  promising  to  revisit  him  on  my 
return  from  Khartoum.  As  we  passed  the  brick  Pyramid  of 
Sakkara,  which  is  built  in  four  terraces  of  equal  height,  the 
dark,  grateful  green  of  the  palms  and  harvest-fields  of  the  Nile 
appeared  between  two  sand-hills — a  genuine  balm  to  our  heat- 
«d  eyes.  We  rode  through  groves  of  the  fragrant  mimosa  to 
%  broad  dike,  the  windings  of  which  we  were  obliged  to  folio* 


70  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

across  the  plain,  as  the  soil  was  still  wet  and  adhesive.  It  wai 
too  late  to  visit  the  beautiful  Pyramids  of  Dashoor,  the  lirst  of 
which  is  more  than  three  hundred  feet  in  height,  and  from  a 
distance  has  almost  as  grand  an  effect  as  those  of  Gizeh.  Our 
tired  donkeys  lagged  slowly  along  to  the  palm-groves  of  Mitra- 
henny,  where  we  saw  mounds  of  earth,  a  few  blocks  of  red 
granite  and  a  colossal  statue  of  Remeses  II.  (Sesostris) — which 
until  now  were  supposed  to  be  the  only  remains  of  Memphis. 
The  statue  lies  on  its  face  in  a  hole  filled  with  water.  The 
countenance  is  said  to  be  very  beautiful,  but  I  could  only  see 
the  top  of  Sesostris's  back,  which  bore  a  faint  resemblance  to 
a  crocodile. 

Through  fields  of  cotton  in  pod  and  beans  in  blossom,  we 
rode  to  the  Nile,  dismissed  our  donkeys  and  their  attendants, 
and  lay  down  on  some  bundles  of  corn-stalks  to  wait  the  arri- 
val of  our  boat.  But  there  had  been  a  south  wind  all  day 
and  we  had  ridden  much  faster  than  our  men  could  tow.  We 
sat  till  long  after  sunset  before  the  stars  and  stripes,  floating 
from  the  mizzen  of  the  Cleopatra,  turned  the  corner  below 
Bedrasheyn.  When,  at  last,  we  sat  at  our  cabin-table,  weary 
and  hungry,  we  were  ready  to  confess  that  the  works  of  art 
produced  by  our  cook,  Salame,  were  more  marvellous  and  itv 
Cresting  than  Memphis  and  the  Pyramids. 


I.EAV*    THZ    PYRAMIDS.  71 


CHAPTER    VI. 

FROM      MEMPHIS      TO      8  I  O  C  T. 

Oaving  the  Pyramids— A  Calm  and  a  Breeze— A  Coptic  Visit — Minyeh — The  Or  >tt<*» 
of  Benl-Hassan — Douin  Palms  and  Crocodiles— Djebel  Aboufayda — Entranci  Into 
Upper  Egypt— Diversions  of  the  Boatmen — Siout  -Its  Tombs— A  Landscaie— / 
Bath. 

"  It  flows  through  old  hashed  Egypt  and  its  sands, 
Like  some  grave,  mighty  thought  threading  a  dream." 

LEIGH  HUNT'S  SONNET  TO  THE  NILE. 

THE  extent  of  my  journey  into  Africa  led  me  to  reverse  the 
usual  plan  pursued  by  travellers  on  the  Nile,  who  sail  to  As- 
souan or  Wadi-Halfa  without  pause,  and  visit  the  antiquities 
on  their  return.  I  have  never  been  able  to  discern  the  phi- 
losophy of  this  plan.  The  voyage  up  is  always  longer,  and 
more  tedious  (to  those  heathens  who  call  the  Nile  tedious), 
than  the  return ;  besides  which,  two  visits,  though  brief,  with 
an  interval  between,  leave  a  more  complete  and  enduring 
image,  than  a  single  one.  The  mind  has  time  to  analyze  and 
contrast,  and  can  afterwards  confirm  or  correct  the  first  im- 
pressions. How  any  one  can  sail  from  Cairo  to  Siout,  a  voy- 
age of  two  hundred  and  sixty  miles,  with  but  one  or  two  points 
of  interest,  without  taking  the  Pyramids  with  him  in  memory, 
I  cannot  imagine  Were  it  not  for  that  recollection,  I  should 
have  pronounced  Modern  Egypt  more  interesting  than  th€ 


72  JOUKNKV    Tl»    CKNTRAt 

Egypt  of  the  Pharaohs  and  the  Ptolemies.  I  omitted  seeing 
Done  of  the  important  remains  on  my  upward  journey,  so  that 
I  might  be  left  free  to  choose  another  route  homeward,  if  pos 
sible.  It  seemed  like  slighting  Fortune  to  pass  Dendera,  and 
Karnak  and  Ombos,  without  notice.  Opportunity  is  rare,  and 
a  wise  man  will  never  let  it  go  by  him.  I  knew  not  what  dan- 
gers I  might  have  to  encounter,  but  I  knew  that  it  would  be  a 
satisfaction  to  me,  even  if  speared  by  the  Bedouins  of  the  Ly- 
bian  Desert,  to  think  :  "  You  rascals,  you  have  killed  me,  but 
[  have  seen  Thebes  I " 

The  Pyramids  of  Dashoor  followed  us  all  the  next  day 
after  leaving  Memphis.  Our  sailors  tugged  us  slowly  along 
shore,  against  a  mild  south  wind,  but  could  not  bring  us  out  of 
the  horizon  of  those  red  sandstone  piles.  Our  patience  was 
tried,  that  day  and  the  next,  by  our  slow  and  toilsome  progress 
hindered  still  more  by  running  aground  on  sand-banks,  but  we 
were  pledged  to  patience,  and  had  our  reward.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  fourth  day,  as  we  descried  before  us  the  minarets  of 
Benisouef,  the  first  large  town  after  leaving  Cairo,  a  timid 
breeze  came  rustling  over  the  dourra-fields  to  the  north,  and 
puffed  out  the  Cleopatra's  languid  sails.  The  tow-rope  was 
hauled  in,  our  Arabs  jumped  on  board  and  produced  the  drum 
and  tambourine,  singing  lustily  as  we  moved  out  into  the 
middle  of  the  stream.  The  wind  increased;  the  flag  lifted  itself 
from  the  mast  and  streamed  toward  Thebes,  and  Benisouef 
went  by,  almost  before  we  had  counted  its  minarets.  I  tried 
in  vain  to  distinguish  the  Pyramid  of  Illahoon,  which  stands 
inland,  at  the  base  of  the  Libyan  Hills  and  the  entrance  of  the 
pass  leading  to  the  Lake  of  Fyoom,  the  ancient  Moeris.  Neai 
the  Pyramid  are  the  foundations  of  the  famous  Labyrinth 


A  corric  VISIT.  73 

lately  excavated  by  Dr.  Lepsius.  The  Province  of  Fyoom 
surrounding  the  lake,  is,  with  the  exception  of  the  Oases  in 
the  Libyan  Dcserf,  the  only  productive  land  west  of  the  moun 
tains  bordering  the  Nile 

All  afternoon,  with  both  sails  full  and  our  vessel  leaning 
against  the  current,  we  flew  before  the  wind.  At  dusk,  the 
town  of  Feshn  appeared  on  our  left ;  at  midnight,  we  passed 
Abou-Girgeh  and  the  Mounds  of  Behnesa,  the  ancient  Oxyrin- 
elms;  and  when  the  wind  left  us,  at  sunrise,  we  were  seventy 
miles  from  Benisoucf.  The  Arabian  Mountains  here  approach 
the  river,  and  at  two  points  terminate  in  abrupt  precipices  of 
yellow  calcareous  rock.  The  bare  cliffs  of  Djebel  el  Tayr  (the 
Mountain  of  Birds),  are  crowned  with  the  "  Convent  of  the 
Pulley,"  so  called  from  its  inaccessible  situation,  and  the  fact 
that  visitors  are  frequently  drawn  to  the  summit  by  a  rope  and 
windlass.  While  passing  this  convent,  a  cry  came  up  from 
the  muddy  waters  of  the  river :  "  We  are  Christians,  0  How- 
adji !  "  and  presently  two  naked  Coptic  monks  wriggled  over 
the  gunwale,  and  sat  down,  panting  and  dripping,  on  the  deck. 
We  gave  them  backsheesh,  which  they  instantly  clapped  into 
their  mouths,  but  their  souls  likewise  devoutly  yearned  for 
brandy,  which  they  did  not  get.  They  were  large,  lusty  fellows, 
and  whatever  perfection  of  spirit  they  might  have  attained, 
their  flesh  certainly  had  never  been  unnecessarily  mortified. 
After  a  breathing  spell,  they  jumped  into  the  river  again,  and 
we  soon  saw  them  straddling  from  point  to  point,  as  they 
crawled  up  the  almost  perpendicular  cliff.  At  Djebel  el  Tayr, 
the  birds  of  Egypt  (according  to  an  Arabic  legend)  assemble 
annually  and  choose  one  of  their  number  to  remain  there  for  a 
year  My  friend  complained  that  the  wild  geese  and  duckf 
4 


T4  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

were  not  represented,  and  out  of  revenge  fired  at  a  company  of 
huge  pelicans,  who  were  seated  on  a  sand-bank. 

The  drum  and  tambourine  kept  lively  tinte  to  the  voices  of 
our  sailors,  as  we  approached  Minyeh,  the  second  large  town 
on  the  river,  and  the  capital  of  a  Province.  But  the  song  this 
time  had  a  peculiar  significance.  After  the  long-drawn  sound, 
something  between  a  howl  and  a  groan,  which  terminated  it,  we 
were  waited  upon  by  a  deputation,  who  formally  welcomed  us 
to  the  city.  We  responded  by  a  backsheesh  of  twenty-five 
piastres,  and  the  drum  rang  louder  than  ever.  We  stayed  in 
Minyeh  long  enough  to  buy  a  leg  of  mutton,  and  then  sailed 
for  the  tombs  of  Beni-Hassan.  The  wind  left  us  as  we  reached 
a  superb  palm-grove,  which  for  several  miles  skirts  the  foot  of 
Djebel  Shekh  Tiniay.  The  inhabitants  are  in  bad  odor,  and  in 
addition  to  our  own  guard,  we  were  obliged  to  take  two  men 
from  the  village,  who  came  armed  with  long  sticks  and  built  a 
fire  on  the  bank,  beside  our  vessel.  This  is  a  regulation  of 
the  Government,  to  which  travellers  usually  conform,  but  I 
never  saw  much  reason  for  it.  We  rose  at  dawn  and  wandered 
for  hours  through  the  palms,  to  the  verge  of  the  Desert.  When 
within  two  or  three  miles  of  the  mountain  of  Beni-Hassan,  we 
provided  ourselves  with  candles,  water-flasks  and  weapons,  and 
set  off  in  advance  of  our  boat.  The  Desert  here  reached  the 
Nile,  terminating  in  a  bluff  thirty  to  forty  feet  in  height,  which 
is  composed  of  layers  of  pebbles  and  shelly  sand,  apparently 
the  deposit  of  many  successive  floods.  I  should  have  attri- 
buted this  to  the  action  of  the  river,  cutting  a  deeper  channel 
from  year  to  year,  but  I  believe  it  is  now  acknowledged  that  the 
bed  of  the  Nile  is  gradually  rising,  and  that  the  yearly  inun- 
dation covers  a  much  wider  space  than  in  the  time  of  the  Pha- 


THE    GROTTOES    OF    BEX1-HASSAN.  75 

raoha.  It  is  difficult  to  reconcile  thie  fact  with  the  very  per 
septible  encroachments  which  the  sand  is  making  on  the  Libyan 
shore ;  but  we  may  at  least  be  satisfied  that  the  glorious  harvest 
valley  through  which  the  river  wanders  can  never  be  wholh 
effaced  thereby. 

We  climbed  to  the  glaring  level  of  the  Desert,  carrying 
with  us  the  plumes  of  a  beautiful  gray  heron  which  my  friend 
brought  down.  A  solitary  Arab  horseman  was  slowly  moving 
along  the  base  of  the  arid  hills,  and  we  descried  in  the  dis- 
tance a  light-footed  gazelle,  which  leisurely  kept  aloof  and 
mocked  our  efforts  to  surround  it.  At  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tain we  passed  two  ruined  villages,  destroyed  several  years  ago 
by  Ibrahim  Pasha,  on  account  of  the  marauding  propensities  of 
the  inhabitants.  It  has  a  cruel  sound,  when  you  are  told  that 
the  people  were  driven  away,  and  their  dwellings  razed  to  the 
ground,  but  the  reality  is  a  trifling  matter.  The  Arabs  take 
'heir  water-skins  and  pottery,  jump  into  the  Nile,  swim  across 
io  a  safer  place,  and  in  three  or  four  days  their  palaces  of  mud 
are  drying  in  the  sun.  We  came  upon  them  the  next  morning, 
as  thievishly  inclined  as  ever,  and  this  was  the  only  place 
where  I  found  the  people  otherwise  than  friendly. 

A  steep  path,  up  a  slope  covered  with  rounded  boulders  of 
hard  black  rock,  leads  to  the  grottoes  of  Beni-Hassan.  They 
are  among  the  oldest  in  Egypt,  dating  from  the  reign  of  Osir- 
tasen  I,  about  1750  years  before  the  Christian  Era,  and  are 
interesting  from  their  encaustic  paintings,  representing  Egyp 
tian  life  and  customs  at  that  early  date.  The  rock  chambers 
extend  for  nearly  half  a  mile  along  the  side  of  the  mo'intain. 
The  most  of  them  are  plain  and  without  particular  interest, 
and  they  have  all  suffered  from  the  great  spoilers  of 


76  JOURNET   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

the  Persian,  the  Copt  and  the  Saracen.  Four  only  retain  then 
hieroglyphics  and  paintings,  and  are  adorned  with  column! 
hewn  from  the  solid  rock.  The  first  we  entered  contained  foui 
plain,  fluted  columns,  one  of  which  had  been  shivered  in  the 
centre,  leaving  the  architrave  and  capital  suspended  from  the 
ceiling.  The  walls  were  covered  with  paintings,  greatly  faded 
and  defaced,  representing  the  culture  and  manufacture  of  flax, 
the  sowing  and  reaping  of  grain,  and  the  making  of  bread, 
besides  a  number  of  spirited  hunting  and  fishing  scenes.  The 
occupant  of  the  tomb  appears  to  have  been  a  severe  master 
for  his  servants  are  shown  in  many  places,  undergoing  the  pun- 
ishment of  the  bastinado,  which  is  even  inflicted  upon  women. 
He  was  also  wealthy,  for  we  still  see  his  stewards  presenting 
him  with  tablets  showing  the  revenues  of  his  property.  He 
was  a  great  man  in  Joseph's  day,  but  the  pit  in  which  he  lay 
is  now  empty,  and  the  Arabs  have  long  since  burned  his 
mummy  to  boil  their  rice. 

The  second  tomb  is  interesting,  from  a  painting  represent- 
ing thirty  men,  of  a  foreign  nation,  who  are  brought  before  the 
deceased  occupant.  Some  antiquarians  suppose  them  to  be  the 
brethren  of  Joseph,  but  the  tomb  is  that  of  a  person  named 
Nehophth,  and  the  number  of  men  does  not  correspond 
with  the  Bible  account.  Two  of  the  southern  tombs,  which 
are  supported  by  pillars  formed  of  four  budding  locust-stalks 
bound  together,  are  covered  with  paintings  representing  differ- 
ent trades  and  professions.  The  rear  walls  are  entirely  devot- 
ed to  illustrations  of  gymnastic  exercises,  and  the  figures  are 
drawn  with  remarkable  freedom  and  skill.  There  are  never 
more  than  two  persons  in  a  group,  one  being  painted  red  and 
the  other  black,  in  order  the  better  to  show  the  position  of 


ANTINOK.  77 

In  at  least  five  hundred  different  groupings  the  same 
exercise  is  not  repeated,  showing  a  wonderful  fertility  of  iaven- 
tion,  either  on  the  part  of  the  artist  or  the  wrestlers.  Tb> 
execution  of  these  figures  fully  reached  my  ideas  of  Egyptian 
pictorial  art,  but  the  colors  were  much  less  vivid  than  some 
travellers  represent.  The  tombs  are  not  large,  though  numer 
ous,  and  what  is  rather  singular,  there  is  not  the  least  trace  ot 
a  city  in  the  neighborhood,  to  which  they  could  have  belonged. 

The  next  day  at  noon  we  passed  between  the  mounds  of 
Antinoe  and  Herinopolis  Magna,  lying  on  opposite  banks  of  the 
Nile.  Antinoe,  built  by  the  Emperor  Adrian  in  honor  of  his 
favorite,  the  glorious  Antinous,  who  was  here  drowned  in  the 
river,  has  entirely  disappeared,  with  the  exception  of  its  foun- 
dations. Twenty  -five  years  ago,  many  interesting  monuments 
were  still  standing,  but  as  they  were,  unfortunately,  of  the 
white  calcareous  stone  of  the  Arabian  Hills,  they  have  been 
long  since  burnt  for  lime.  Before  reaching  Antinoe  we  had 
just  come  on  board,  after  a  long  walk  on  the  western  bank,  and 
the  light  wind  which  bore  us  toward  the  mountain  of  ShekL 
Abaddeh  was  too  pleasant  to  be  slighted ;  so  we  saw  nothing 
of  Adrian's  city  except  some  heaps  of  dirt.  The  splendid 
evening,  however,  which  bathed  the  naked  cliffs  of  the  moan- 
tain  in  rosy  flame,  was  worth  more  to  us  than  any  amount  of 
marble  blocks. 

The  guide  book  says,  "  hereabouts  appears  the  doum  palm, 
and  crocodiles  begin  to  be  more  frequently  seen."  The  next 
morning  we  found  one  of  the  trees,  but  day  after  day  we  vainly 
sought  a  crocodile.  My  friend  recalled  a  song  of  Geibel's,  con- 
cerning a  German  musician  who  played  his  violin  by  the  Nile 
till  the  crocodiles  came  out  and  danced  around  the  Pyramids 


78  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

and  in  his  despair  would  also  have  purchased  a  violin,  if  an 
could  have  been  found  in  Siout.  I  had  seen  alligators  on  th. 
Mississippi,  and  took  the  disappointment  more  complacently. 
The  doum  palm  differs  from  the  columnar  date-palm  in  the 
form  of  its  leaves,  which  are  fan-like,  and  in  having  a  branching 
trunk.  The  main  stem  divides  a  few  feet  from  the  root,  each 
of  the  branches  again  forming  two,  and  each  of  these  two  more, 
till  the  tree  receives  a  broad,  rounded  top.  The  fruit  hangs 
below  in  clusters,  resembling  small  cocoa-nuts,  and  has  a  sort 
of  gingerbread  flavor,  which  is  not  disagreeable.  When  fully 
dry  and  hard,  it  takes  a  polish  like  ivory,  and  is  manufactured 
by  the  Arabs  into  beads,  pipe  bowls  and  other  small  articles. 
We  approached  the  mountain  of  Aboufayda  with  a  strong 
and  favorable  wind.  Here  the  Nile,  for  upward  of  ten  miles, 
washes  the  foot  of  lofty  precipices,  whose  many  deep  fissures 
and  sharp  angles  give  them  the  appearance  of  mountains  in 
ruin.  The  afternoon  sun  shone  full  on  the  yellow  rocks,  and 
their  jagged  pinnacles  were  cut  with  wonderful  distinctness 
against  the  perfect  blue  of  the  sky.  This  mountain  is  con- 
sidered the  most  dangerous  point  on  the  Nile  for  boats,  and  the 
sailors  always  approach  it  with  fear.  Owing  to  its  deep  side- 
gorges,  the  wind  sometimes  shifts  about  without  a  moment's 
warning,  and  if  the  large  lateen  sail  is  caught  aback,  the  vessel 
is  instantly  overturned.  During  the  passage  of  this  and  other 
similar  straits,  two  sailors  sit  on  deck,  holding  the  sail  rope, 
ready  to  let  it  fly  in  the  wind  on  the  slightest  appearance  of 
danger.  The  shifting  of  the  sail  is  a  delicate  business,  at  such 
times,  but  I  found  it  better  to  trust  to  our  men,  awkward  ac 
they  were,  than  to  confuse  by  attempting  to  direct  them.  At 
Djebel  Shekh  Said,  the  sailors  have  a  custom  of  throwing  tw« 


APPROACH  TO  UPPER  EbTPT.  79 

or  three  loaves  of  bread  on  the  water,  believing  that  it  will  be 
taken  up  by  two  large  white  birds  and  deposited  on  the  tomb 
of  the  Shekh.  The  wind  favored  us  in  passing  Aboufayda ; 
the  Cleopatra  dashed  the  foam  from  the  rough  waves,  and  in 
two  or  three  hours  the  southern  comer  of  the  mountain  lay 
behind  us,  leaning  away  from  the  Nile  like  the  shattered  pylon 
of  a  temple. 

Before  sunset  we  passed  the  city  of  Manfalout,  whost 
houses  year  by  year  topple  into  the  mining  flood.  The  side 
next  the  river  shows  only  halves  of  buildings,  the  rest  of 
which  have  been  washed  away.  In  a  few  years  the  tall  and 
airy  minarets  will  follow,  and  unless  the  inhabitants  continue 
to  shift  their  dwellings  to  the  inland  side,  the  city  will  entirely 
disappear.  From  this  point,  the  plain  of  Siout,  the  garden  of 
Upper  Egypt,  opened  wide  and  far  before  us.  The  spur  of 
the  Libyan  hills,  at  the  foot  of  which  the  city  is  built,  shot 
out  in  advance,  not  more  than  ten  or  twelve  miles  distant,  but 
the  Nile,  loth  to  leave  these  beautiful  fields  and  groves,  winds 
hither  and  thither  in  such  a  devious,  lingering  track,  that  you 
must  sail  twenty-five  miles  to  reach  El  Hamra,  the  port  of 
Siout.  The  landscape,  broader  and  more  majestic  than  those 
of  Lower  Egypt,  is  even  richer  and  more  blooming.  The 
Desert  is  kept  within  its  proper  bounds ;  it  is  no  longer  visible 
from  the  river,  and  the  hills,  whose  long,  level  lines  frame  the 
view  on  either  side,  enhance  by  their  terrible  sterility  the 
luxury  of  vegetation  which  covers  the  plain.  It  is  a  boun- 
teous land,  visited  only  by  healthy  airs,  and  free  from  the  pe* 
tilence  which  sometimes  scourges  Cairo. 

The  wind  fell  at  midnight,  but  came  to  us  again  the  next 
(Doming  at  sunrise,  and  brought  us  to  El  Hamra  before  noon 


50  JO0RNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Our  men  were  in  high  spirits  at  having  a  day  of  rest  be- 
fore them,  the  contracts  for  boats  always  stipulating  for  a  hall 
of  twenty-four  hours  at  Siout  and  Esneh,  in  order  that  thej 
may  procure  their  supplies  of  provisions.  They  buy  wheat 
and  dourra,  have  it  ground  in  one  of  the  rude  mills  worked  by 
buffaloes,  and  bake  a  sufficient  quantity  of  loaves  to  last  two 
or  three  weeks.  Our  men  had  also  the  inspiration  of  back 
sheesh  in  their  song,  and  their  dolorous  love-melodies  rang 
from  shore  to  shore.  The  correctness  with  which  these  people 
sing  is  absolutely  surprising.  Wild  and  harsh  as  are  their 
songs,  their  choruses  are  in  perfect  accord,  and  even  when  at 
the  same  time  exerting  all  their  strength  at  the  poles  and  oars 
they  never  fail  in  a  note.  The  melodies  are  simple,  but  not 
without  expression,  and  all  are  pervaded  with  a  mournful  mo- 
notony which  seems  to  have  been  caught  from  the  Desert. 
There  is  generally  an  improvisatore  in  each  boat's  crew,  who 
supplies  an  endless  number  of  lines  to  the  regular  chorus  of 
"  hay-haylee  sah  !  "  So  far  as  I  could  understand  our  poet, 
there  was  not  the  least  meaning  or  connection  in  his  poetry, 
but  he  never  failed  in  the  rhythm.  He  sang,  for  instance . 
"  0  Alexandrian  ! " — then  followed  the  chorus  :  "  Hasten, 
three  of  you  1 " — chorus  again  :  "  Hail,  Sidi  Ibrahim  ! "  and 
BO  on,  for  an  hour  at  a  time.  On  particular  occasions,  he  add- 
ed pantomime,  and  the  scene  on  our  forward  deck  resembled  a 
war-dance  of  the  Blackfeet.  The  favorite  pantomime  is  that 
»f  a  man  running  into  a  hornet's  nest.  He  stamps  and  cries, 
improvising  all  the  while,  the  chorus  seeking  to  drown  hia 
voice.  Ho  then  throws  off  his  mantle,  cap,  and  sometimes  his 
last  garment,  slapping  his  body  to  drive  off  the  hornets,  and 
howling  wifh  pain.  The  song  winds  up  with  a  prolonged  cry 


MOOT.  81 

irhich  only  ceases  when  every  lung  is  emptied  Even  when 
most  mirthfully  inclined,  and  roaring  in  ecstasy  over  some  sil- 
ly joke,  our  men  always  laughed  in  accord.  So  sound  and 
hearty  were  their  cachinnatory  choruses,  that  we  involuntarily 
laughed  with  them. 

A  crowd  of  donkeys,  ready  saddled,  awaited  us  on  the  bank 
and  the  boys  began  to  fight  before  our  boat  was  moored.  We 
chose  three  unpainted  animals,  so  large  that  our  feet  were  at 
least  three  inches  from  the  ground,  and  set  off  on  a  gallop  for 
Siout,  which  is  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  river.  Its 
fifteen  tall,  white  minarets  rose  before  us,  against  the  back- 
ground of  the  mountain,  and  the  handsome  front  of  the  palace 
of  Ismail  Pasha  shone  through  the  dark  green  of  its  embosom- 
ing acacias.  The  road  follows  the  course  of  a  dam,  built  to 
retain  the  waters  of  the  inundation,  and  is  shaded  with  palms, 
sycamores  and  mimosas.  On  either  side  we  looked  down  upon 
fields  of  clover,  so  green,  juicy  and  June-like  that  I  waa 
tempted  to  jump  from  my  donkey  and  take  a  roll  therein. 
Where  the  ground  was  still  damp  the  Arabs  were  ploughing 
with  camels,  and  sowing  wheat  on  the  moist,  fat  loam.  We 
crossed  a  bridge  and  entered  the  court  of  justice,  one  of  the 
most  charmingly  clean  and  shady  spots  in  Egypt.  The  town, 
which  is  built  of  sun-dried  bricks,  whose  muddy  hue  is  some- 
what relieved  by  the  whitewashed  mosques  and  minarets,  is 
astonishingly  clean  in  every  part.  The  people  themselves  ap- 
peared to  be  orderly,  intelligent  and  amiable. 

The  tombs  of  the  City  of  Wolves,  the  ancient  Lycopolis, 

are  in  the  eastern  front  of  the  mountain  overhanging  the  city 

We  rode  to  the  Stall  Antar,  the  principal  one.  and  ther 

olimbed  to  the  summit.      The  tombs  are  much  larger  thai 

4* 


82  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

those  of  Beni-Hassan,  but  have  been  almost  ruined  by  the 
modern  Egyptians.  The  enormous  square  pillars  which  filled 
their  halls  have  been  shattered  down  for  lime,  and  only  frag 
meats  of  the  capitals  still  hang  from  the  ceilings  of  solid  rock. 
The  sculptures  and  hieroglyphics,  which  are  here  not  painted 
hut  sculptured  in  intaglio,  are  also  greatly  defaced.  The 
second  tomb  called  by  the  Arabs  Stall  Hamam  (Pigeoii  Sta- 
ble), retains  its  grand  doorway,  which  has  on  each  side  the  co 
lossal  figure  of  an  ancient  king.  The  sand  around  its  mouth 
is  filled  with  fragments  of  mummied  wolves,  and  on  our  way 
up  the  mountain  we  scared  one  of  their  descendants  from  his 
lair  iu  a  solitary  tomb.  The  Stdbl  Hamam  is  about  sixty 
feet  square  by  forty  in  height,  and  in  its  rough  and  ruined  as- 
pect is  more  impressive  than  the  more  chaste  and  elegant 
chambers  of  Beni-Hassan.  The  view  of  the  plain  of  Siout, 
seen  through  its  entrance,  has  a  truly  magical  eflect.  From 
the  gray  twilight  of  the  hall  in  which  you  stand,  the  green  of 
the  fields,  the  purple  of  the  distant  mountains,  and  the  blue 
of  the  sky,  dazzle  your  eye  as  if  tinged  with  the  broken  rays 
of  a  prism. 

From  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  which  we  reached  by 
scaling  a  crevice  in  its  white  cliffs,  we  overlooked  a  more  beau- 
tiful landscape  than  that  seen  from  the  Pyramid.  In  the 
north,  beyond  the  spires  of  Manfalout  and  the  crags  of  Abou- 
fayda,  we  counted  the  long  palm-groves,  receding  behind  one 
another  to  the  yellow  shore  of  the  Desert ;  in  front,  the  wind- 
ing Nile  and  the  Arabian  Mountains ;  southward,  a  sea  of 
wheat  and  clover  here  deepening  into  dark  emerald,  there  pal- 
ing into  gold,  according  to  the  degree  of  moisture  in  the  soil, 
and  ceasing  only  because  the  eye  refused  to  follow;  while  bfr 


8IOUT A    BATH.  83 

bind  as,  over  the  desert  hills,  wound  the  track  of  the  yearlj 
caravan  from  Dar-Fur  and  Kordofan.  Our  Arab  guide  point- 
ed out  a  sandy  plain,  behind  the  cemetery  of  the  Mamelukes, 
which  lay  at  our  feet,  as  the  camping-ground  of  the  caravan, 
and  tried  to  tell  us  how  many  thousand  camels  were  assembled 
there.  As  we  looked  upon  the  superb  plain,  teeming  with  ita 
glory  of  vegetable  life  and  enlivened  by  the  songs  of  the  Arab 
ploughmen,  a  funeral  procession  came  from  the  city  and  passed 
slowly  to  the  burying-ground,  accompanied  by  the  dismal 
howling  of  a  band  of  women.  We  went  below  and  rode  be- 
tween the  whitewashed  domes  covering  the  graves  of  the 
Mamelukes.  The  place  was  bright,  clean  and  cheerful,  in 
comparison  with  the  other  Arab  burying-grounds  we  had  seen. 
The  grove  which  shades  its  northern  wall  stretches  for  more 
than  a  mile  along  the  edge  of  the  Desert — a  picturesque  ave- 
nue of  palms,  sycamores,  fragrant  acacias,  mimosas  and  acan- 
thus. The  air  around  Siout  is  pregnant  with  the  rich  odor  of 
the  yellow  mimosa-flowers,  and  one  becomes  exhilarated  by 
breathing  it. 

The  city  has  handsome  bazaars  and  a  large  bath,  built  by 
Mohammed  Bey  Defterdar,  the  savage  son-in-law  of  Mohammed 
Ali.  The  halls  are  spacious,  supported  by  granite  columns, 
and  paved  with  marble.  Little  threads  of  water,  scarcely  visi- 
ble in  the  dim,  steamy  atmosphere,  shoot  upward  from  the 
stone  tanks,  around  which  a  dozen  brown  figures  lie  stretched 
in  the  lazy  beatitude  of  the  bath.  I  was  given  over  to  two 
Arabs,  who  scrubbed  me  to  desperation,  plunged  me  twice  over 
head  and  ears  in  a  tank  of  scalding  water,  and  then  placed  me 
inder  a  cold  douche.  When  the  whole  process,  which  occupied 
more  than  half  an  hour,  was  over,  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  pip* 


84  JOURNEY   TO    CKNTRAL    AFRICA. 

were  brought  to  me  as  I  lay  stretched  out  on  the  divan,  while 
another  attendant  commenced  a  course  of  dislocation,  twisting 
and  cracking  all  my  joints  and  pressing  violently  with  both 
hands  on  my  breast.  Singularly  enough,  this  removed  the  lan- 
guor occasioned  by  so  much  hot  water,  and  gave  a  wonderful 
elasticity  to  the  frame.  I  walked  out  as  if  shod  with  the  wings 
of  Mercury,  and  as  I  rode  back  to  our  boat,  congratulated  m\ 
donkey  on  the  airy  lightness  of  his  load. 


The  Cleopatra. 


CHAPTER     VII. 

LIFE       ON      THE       NILE. 

independence  of  Nile  Life — The  Dahabiyeli — Onr  Servants — Onr  Residence — Our  Man- 
ner of  Living— The  Climate— The  Natives— Costume— Our  Sunset  Repose— Mi 
Friend— A  Sensuous  Life  Defended. 


-"The  life  thon  seek'st 


Thou'lt  find  beeido  the  Eternal  Nile."— MOORB'S  ALCIPHEOM. 

WE  hear  much  said  by  tourists  who  have  visited  Egypt, 
concerning  the  comparative  pains  and  pleasures  of  life  on  the 
Nile,  and  their  decisions  are  as  various  as  their  individual 
characters.  Four  out  of  every  five  complain  of  the  monotony 
and  tedium  of  the  voyage,  and  pour  forth  touching  lamenta- 
tions over  the  annoyance  of  rats  and  cockroaches,  the  impossi 
bility  of  procuring  beef-steak,  or  the  difficulty  of  shooting 
Crocodiles.  Some  of  them  are  wholly  impermeable  to  the  itiflu- 


86  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRA!.   AFRICA. 

ences  of  the  climate,  scenery  and  ruins  of  Egypt,  and  carry  to 
the  Nubian  frontier  the  airs  of  Broadway  or  Boud-street.  I 
have  heard  such  a  one  say  :  "  This  seeing  the  Nile  is  a  nice 
thing  to  have  gotten  over,  but  it  is  a  great  bore  while  you  are 
about  it."  Such  is  the  spirit  of  those  travelling  snobs  (of  all 
nations),  by  some  of  whom  sacred  Egypt  is  profaned  every 
winter.  They  are  unworthy  to  behold  the  glories  of  the  Nile. 
and  if  I  had  the  management  of  Society,  they  never  should. 
A.  palm-tree  is  to  them  a  good  post  to  shoot  a  pigeon  from , 
Dendera  is  a  "  rum  old  concern,"  and  a  crocodile  is  better  than 
Karnak. 

There  are  a  few,  however,  who  will  acknowledge  the  truth 
of  the  picture  which  follows,  and  which  was  written  in  the  cabin 
of  the  Cleopatra,  immediately  after  our  arrival  in  Upper  Egypt. 
A.S  it  is  a  faithful  transcript  of  my  Nilotic  life,  I  have  devi- 
ated from  the  regular  course  of-  my  narrative,  in  order  to  give 
it  without  change  : — 

The  Nile  is  the  Paradise  of  Travel.  I  thought  I  had 
already  fathomed  all  the  depths  of  enjoyment  which  the  travel- 
ler's restless  life  could  reach — enjoyment  more  varied  and 
exciting,  but  far  less  serene  and  enduring  than  that  of  a  quiet 
home — but  here  I  have  reached  a  fountain  too  pure  and  power- 
ful to  be  exhausted.  I  never  before  experienced  such  a 
thorough  deliverance  from  all  the  petty  annoyances  of  travel  in 
other  lands,  such  perfect  contentment  of  spirit,  such  entire 
abandonment  to  the  best  influences  of  nature.  Every  day  opens 
with  a  jubilate,  and  closes  with  a  thanksgiving.  If  such  a 
balm  and  blessing  as  this  life  has  been  to  me,  thus  far,  can  be 
felt  twice  in  one's  existence,  there  must  be  another  Nile  some 
rhere  in  the  world. 


INDEPENDENCE    OF    NILE    LIFE.  Bl 

Other  travellers  undoubtedly  make  other  experiences  and 
take  away  other  impressions.  I  can  even  conceive  circumstan- 
ces which  would  almost  destroy  the  pleasure  of  the  journey. 
The  same  exquisitely  sensitive  temperament  which  in  our  cas« 
has  not  been  disturbed  by  a  single  untoward  incident,  might 
easily  be  kept  in  a  state  of  constant  derangement  by  an  unsym- 
pathetic companion,  a  cheating  dragoman,  or  a  fractious  crew. 
There  are  also  many  trifling  desagremens,  inseparable  from 
life  in  Egypt,  which  some  would  consider  a  source  of  annoy- 
ance ;  but  as  we  find  fewer  than  we  were  prepared  to  meet,  we 
are  not  troubled  thereby.  Our  enjoyment  springs  from  causea 
so  few  and  simple,  that  I  scarcely  know  how  to  make  them 
suffice  for  the  effect,  to  those  who  have  never  visited  the  Nile. 
It  may  be  interesting  to  such  to  be  made  acquainted  with  our 
manner  of  living,  in  detail. 

In  the  first  place,  we  are  as  independent  of  all  organized 
Governments  as  a  ship  on  the  open  sea.  (The  Arabs  call  the 
Nile  El  bahrj  "  the  sea.")  We  are  on  board  our  own  char- 
tered vessel,  which  must  go  where  we  list,  the  captain  and 
sailors  being  strictly  bound  to  obey  us.  We  sail  under  nation- 
al colors,  make  our  own  laws  for  the  time  being,  are  ourselves 
the  only  censors  over  our  speech  and  conduct,  and  shall  have 
no  communication  with  the  authorities  on  shore,  unless  our 
subjects  rebel.  Of  this  we  have  no  fear,  for  we  commenced 
by  maintaining  strict  discipline,  and  as  we  make  no  unreason 
able  demands,  are  always  cheerfully  obeyed.  Indeed,  the 
most  complete  harmony  exists  between  the  rulers  and  the  ruled, 
and  though  our  government  is  the  purest  form  of  despotism 
we  flatter  ourselves  that  it  is  better  managed  than  that  of  thl 
Model  llepublic. 


88  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Our  territory,  to  be  sure,  is  not  very  extensive.  The  Cleo 
patra  is  a  dahabiyeh.  seventy  feet  long  by  ten  broad.  She 
has  two  short  masts  in  the  bow  and  stern,  the  first  upholding 
the  trinkeet,  a  lateen  sail  nearly  seventy  feet  in  length.  The 
latter  carries  the  belikon,  a  small  sail,  and  the  American  col- 
'  ors.  The  narrow  space  around  the  foremast  belongs  to  the  crew, 
who  cook  their  meals  in  a  small  brick  furnace,  and  sit  on  the 
gunwale,  beating  a  drum  and  tambourine  and  singing  for  hours 
in  interminable  choruses,  when  the  wind  blows  fair.  If  there 
is  no  wind,  half  of  them  are  on  shore,  tugging  us  slowly  along 
the  banks  with  a  long  tow-rope,  and  singing  all  day  long :  u  Ayd 
hamrim — aya  hamdm ! "  If  we  strike  on  a  sand-bank,  they 
jump  into  the  river  and  put  their  shoulders  against  the  hull, 
singing :  "  hay-haylee  sah  !  "  If  the  current  is  slow,  they  ship 
the  oars  and  pull  us  up  stream,  singing  so  complicated  a  refrain 
that  it  is  impossible  to  write  it  with  other  than  Arabic  charac- 
ters. There  are  eight  men  and  a  boy,  besides  our  stately  rais. 
Hassan  Abd  el-Sadek,  and  the  swarthy  pilot,  who  greets  us 
every  morning  with  a  whole  round  of  Arabic  salutations. 

Against  an  upright  pole  which  occupies  the  place  of  a  main- 
mast, stands  our  kitchen,  a  high  wooden  box,  with  three  fur- 
naces. Here  our  cook,  Salame,  may  be  seen  at  all  times,  with 
the  cowl  of  a  blue  capote  drawn  over  his  turban,  preparing  the 
marvellous  dishes,  wherein  his  delight  is  not  less  than  our** 
Salame,  like  a  skilful  artist,  as  he  is,  husbands  his  resources, 
and  each  day  astonishes  us  with  new  preparations,  so  that,  out 
of  few  materials,  he  has  attained  the  grand  climax  of  all  art — 
variety  in  unity.  Achmet,  my  faithful  dragoman,  has  his  sta 
tion  here,  and  keeps  one  eye  on  the  vessel  and  one  on  the  kitchen, 
while  between  the  two  he  does  not  relax  his  protecting  care  foi 


THE    CABIN  89 

OB.  The  approach  to  the  cabin  is  flanked  by  our  provision  chests 
which  will  also  serve  as  a  breastwork  in  case  of  foreign  aggres- 
sion. A  huge  filter-jar  of  porous  earthenware  stands  against 
the  back  of  the  kitchen.  We  keep  our  frosh  butter  arid  vege- 
tables in  a  box  under  it,  where  the  sweet  Nile-water  drips  cool 
and  clear  into  an  earthen  basin.  Our  bread  and  vegetables,  in 
an  open  basket  of  palm-blades,  are  suspended  beside  it,  and  the 
roof  of  the  cabin  supports  our  poultry-yard  and  pigeon-house. 
Sometimes  (but  not  often)  a  leg  of  mutton  may  be  seen  hang- 
ing from  the  ridge-pole,  which  extends  over  the  deck  as  a  sup- 
port to  the  awning. 

The  cabin,  or  Mansion  of  the  Executive  Powers,  is  about 
twenty-five  feet  long.  Its  floor  is  two  feet  below  the  deck,  and 
its  ceiling  five  feet  above,  so  that  we  are  not  cramped  or  crowd- 
ed in  any  particular.  Before  the  entrance  is  a  sort  of  portico, 
with  a  broad,  cushioned  seat  on  each  side,  and  side-awnings  to 
shut  out  the  sun.  This  place  is  devoted  to  pipes  and  medita- 
tion. We  throw  up  the  awnings,  let  the  light  pour  in  on  all 
sides,  and  look  out  on  the  desert  mountains  while  we  inhale  the 
incense  of  the  East.  Our  own  main  cabin  is  about  ten  feet 
long,  and  newly  painted  of  a  brilliant  blue  color.  A  broad 
divan,  with  cushions,  extends  along  each  side,  serving  as  a  sofa 
by  day,  and  a  bed  by  night.  There  are  windows,  blinds,  and 
a  canvas  cover  at  the  sides,  so  that  we  can  regulate  our  light 
%nd  air  as  we  choose.  In  the  middle  of  the  cabin  is  our  table 
and  two  camp  stools,  while  shawls,  capotes,  pistols,  sabre  and 
gun  are  suspended  from  the  walls.  A  little  door  at  the  furthei 
end  opens  into  a  wash-room,  beyond  which  is  a  smaller  eabin 
with  beds  which  we  have  alloted  to  Achmet's  use.  Our  cook 
Bleeps  on  leek,  with  his  head  against  the  provision  chest  The 


90  JOURNEY    TO    CKNTRAL    AFRIOA. 

rais  and  pilot  sleep  on  the  roof  of  our  cabin,  where  the  latter 
sits  all  day,  holding  the  long  arm  of  the  rudder,  which  projects 
forward  over  the  cabin  from  the  high  end  of  the  stern. 

Our  manner  of  life  is  simple,  and  might  even  be  called 
monotonous,  but  we  have  never  found  the  greatest  variety  of 
landscape  and  incident  so  thoroughly  enjoyable.  The  scenery 
of  the  Nile,  thus  far,  scarcely  changes  from  day  to  day,  in  its 
forms  and  colors,  but  only  in  their  disposition  with  regard  to 
each  other.  The  shores  are  either  palm-groves,  fields  of  cane 
and  dourra,  young  wheat,  or  patches  of  bare  sand,  blown  out 
from  the  desert.  The  villages  are  all  the  same  agglomerations 
of  mud-walls,  the  tombs  of  the  Moslem  saints  are  the  same 
white  ovens,  and  every  individual  camel  and  buffalo  resembles 
its  neighbor  in  picturesque  ugliness.  The  Arabian  and  Libyan 
Mountains,  now  sweeping  so  far  into  the  foreground  that  their 
yellow  cliffs  overhang  the  Nile,  now  receding  into  the  violet 
haze  of  the  horizon,  exhibit  little  difference  of  height,  hue, 
or  geological  formation.  Every  new  scene  is  the  turn  of 
a  kaleidoscope,  in  which  the  sime  objects  are  grouped  in 
other  relations,  yet  always  characterized  by  the  most  perfect 
harmony.  These  slight,  yet  ever-renewing  changes,  are  to  us 
a  source  of  endless  delight.  Either  from  the  pure  atmosphere, 
the  healthy  life  we  lead,  or  the  accordant  tone  of  our  spirits, 
we  find  ourselves  unusually  sensitive  to  all  the  slightest  touches, 
the  most  minute  rays  of  that  grace  and  harmony  which  bathes 
every  landscape  in  cloudless  sunshine.  The  various  groupings 
of  the  palms,  the  shifting  of  the  blue  evening  shadows  on  the 
rose-hued  mountain  walls,  the  green  of  the  wheat  and  sugar- 
cane, the  windings  of  the  great  river,  the  alternations  of  wind  and 
oalm  —each  of  these  is  enough  to  content  us,  and  to  give  every 


MANNKR    07    LIVING 


day  a  different  charm  from  that  which  went  before.  We  meel 
contrary  winds,  calms  and  sand-banks  without  losing  ou« 
patience,  and  even  our  excitement  in  the  swiftness  and  grace 
with  which  our  vessel  scuds  before  the  north-wind  is  mingled 
with  a  regret  that  our  journey  is  drawing  so  much  the  more 
swiftly  to  its  close.  A  portion  of  the  old  Egyptian  repose 
seems  to  be  infused  into  our  natures,  and  lately,  when  I  saw 
my  face  in  a  mirror,  I  thought  I  perceived  in  its  features  some 
thing  of  the  patience  and  resignation  of  the  Sphinx. 

Although,  in  order  to  enjoy  this  life  as  much  as  possible, 
we  subject  ourselves  to  no  arbitrary  rules,  there  is  sufficient 
regularity  in  our  manner  of  living.  We  rise  before  the  sun, 
and  after  breathing  the  cool  morning  air  half  an  hour,  drink  a 
cup  of  coffee  and  go  ashore  for  a  walk,  unless  the  wind  is  very 
strong  in  our  favor.  My  friend,  who  is  an  enthusiastic  sports- 
oiuu  and  an  admirable  shot,  takes  his  fowling-piece,  and  I  my 
sketch-book  and  pistols.  We  wander  inland  among  the  fields 
of  wheat  and  dourra,  course  among  the  palms  and  acacias  for 
game,  or  visit  the  villages  of  the  Fellahs.  The  temperature, 
which  is  about  60°  in  the  morning,  rarely  rises  above  75°,  so 
that  we  have  every  day  three  or  four  hours  exercise  in  the  mild 
and  pure  air.  My  friend  always  brings  back  from  one  to  two 
dozen  pigeons,  while  I,  who  practise  with  my  pistol  on  such 
ignoble  game  as  hawks  and  vultures,  which  are  here  hardly  shy 
enough  to  shoot,  can  at  the  best  but  furnish  a  few  wing  fea- 
thers to  clean  our  pipes 

It  is  advisable  to  go  armed  on  these  excursions,  though 
there  is  no  danger  of  open  hostility  on  the  part  of  the  people. 
Certain  neighborhoods,  as  that  of  Beni  Hassan,  are  in  bad 
repute,  but  the  depredations  of  the  inhabitants,  who  have  been 
disarmed  by  the  Government,  are  principally  confined  to  thiev 


92  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

ing  and  other  petty  offences.  On  one  occasion  I  fell  in  with  « 
company  of  these  people,  who  demanded  my  tarboosh,  shod 
and  shawl,  and  would  have  taken  them  had  I  not  been  armed 
In  general,  we  have  found  the  Fellahs  very  friendly  and  well 
disposed.  They  greet  us  on  our  morning  walks  with  "  Sola- 
mat !  "  and  "  Sabdh  el  Kheyr  !  "  and  frequently  accompany  ua 
for  miles.  My  friend's  fowling-piece  often  brings  around  him 
all  the  men  and  boys  of  a  village,  who  follow  him  as  long  as  a 
pigeon  is  to  be  found  on  the  palm-trees.  The  certainty  of  his 
shot  excites  their  wonder.  "  Wallah !  "  they  cry ;  "  every 
time  the  Howadji  fires,  the  bird  drops."  The  fact  of  my  wear- 
ing a  tarboosh  and  white  turban  brings  upon  me  much  Arabic 
conversation,  which  is  somewhat  embarrassing,  with  my  imper- 
fect knowledge  of  the  language ;  but  a  few  words  go  a  great 
way.  The  first  day  I  adopted  this  head-dress  (which  is  conve- 
nient and  agreeable  in  every  respect),  the  people  saluted  mo 
with  "good  nwning,  0  Sidi !"  (Sir,  or  Lord)  instead  of  the 
usual  "  gooa  morning,  0  Howadji ! "  (i.  e.  merchant,  as  the 
Franks  are  rather  contemptuously  designated  by  the  Arabs). 

For  this  climate  and  this  way  of  life,  the  Egyptian  costume 
is  undoubtedly  much  better  than  the  European.  It  is  light, 
cool,  and  does  not  impede  the  motion  of  the  limbs.  The  turban 
thoroughly  protects  the  head  against  the  sun,  and  shades  the 
eyes,  while  it  obstructs  the  vision  much  less  than  a  hat-brim. 
The  broad  silk  shawl  which  holds  up  the  baggy  trowsers,  shields 
the  abdomen  against  changes  of  temperature  and  tends  to  pre- 
vent diarrhoea,  which,  besides  ophthalmia,  is  the  only  ailment  the 
traveller  need  fear.  The  latter  disease  may  be  avoided  by 
bathing  the  face  in  cold  water  after  walking  or  any  exercise 
which  induces  perspiration.  I  have  followed  this  plan,  and 
though  my  eyes  are  exposed  dailv  to  the  full  blaze  of  the  sun, 


PROGRAMME    OP    A    DATS    LIFE.  93 

find  them  growing  stronger  and  clearer.  In  fact,  since  leaving 
the  invigorating  camp-life  of  California,  I  have  not  felt  th* 
bensation  of  health  so  purely  as  now.  The  other  day,  to  the 
great  delight  of  our  sailors  and  the  inexhaustible  merriment  of 
my  friend,  I  donned  one  of  Achuiet's  dresses.  Though  the 
short  Theban's  flowing  trowsers  and  embroidered  jacket  gave 
me  the  appearance  of  a  strapping  Turk,  who  had  grown  toe 
fast  for  his  garments,  they  were  so  easy  and  convenient  in 
every  respect,  that  I  have  decided  to  un-Frank  myself  for  the 
remainder  of  the  journey. 

But  our  day  is  not  yet  at  an  end.  We  come  on  board 
about  eleven  o'clock,  and  find  our  breakfast  ready  for  the  table 
The  dishes  are  few,  but  well  cooked,  and  just  what  a  hungry 
man  would  desire — fowls,  pigeons,  eggs,  rice,  vegetables,  fruit, 
the  coarse  but  nourishing  bread  of  the  country,  and  the  sweet 
ivater  of  the  Nile,  brought  to  a  blush  by  an  infusion  of  claret. 
After  breakfast  we  seat  ourselves  on  the  airy  divans  in  front 
of  the  cabin,  and  quietly  indulge  in  the  luxury  of  a  shebook, 
filled  by  Aohinet's  experienced  hand,  and  a  finjan  of  Turkish 
coffee.  Then  conies  an  hour's  exercise  in  Arabic,  after  which 
we  read  guide-books,  consult  our  maps,  write  letters,  and  occupy 
ourselves  with  various  mysteries  of  our  household,  till  the 
uoonday  heat  is  over.  Dinner,  which  is  served  between  four 
and  five  o'clock,  is  of  the  same  materials  as  our  breakfast,  but 
differently  arranged,  and  with  the  addition  of  soup.  My  friend 
avers  that  he  no  longer  wonders  why  Esau  sold  his  birthright, 
now  that  he  has  tasted  our  pottage  of  Egyptian  lentils.  Coffee 
and  pipes  follow  dinner,  which  is  over  with  the  first  flush  of 
rfonset  and  the  first  premonition  cf  the  coolness  and  quiet  of 
evening. 


34  JOURNEY    TO    CKXTI5AL     \FRICA. 

^  \Ve  seat  ourselves  on  deck,  and  drink  to  its  fulness  tht 
balm  of  this  indescribable  repose.  The  sun  goes  down  behind 
the  Libyan  Desert  in  a  broad  glory  of  purple  and  rosy  lights : 
the  Nile  is  calm  and  unruffled,  the  palms  stand  as  if  sculptured 
in  jasper  and  malachite,  and  the  torn  and  ragged  sides  of  the 
Arabian  Mountains,  pouring  through  a  hundred  fissures  tbt 
sand  of  the  plains  above,  burn  with  a  deep  crimson  lustre,  as 
if  smouldering  from  some  inward  fire.  The  splendor  soon 
passes  off  and  they  stand  for  some  minutes  in  dead,  ashy  pale- 
ness. The  sunset  has  now  deepened  into  orange,  in  the  midst 
of  which  a  large  planet  shines  whiter  than  the  moon.  A 
second  glow  falls  upon  the  mountains,  and  this  time  of  a  pale, 
but  intense  yellow  hue,  which  gives  them  the  effect  of  a  trans- 
parent painting.  The  palm-groves  are  dark  below  and  the  sky 
dark  behind  them ;  they  alone,  the  symbols  of  perpetual  deso- 
lation, are  transfigured  by  the  magical  illumination.  Scarcely 
a  sound  disturbs  the  solemn  magnificence  of  the  hour.  Even 
our  full-throated  Arabs  are  silent,  and  if  a  wave  gurgles 
against  the  prow,  it  slides  softly  back  into  the  river,  as  if  re- 
buked for  the  venture.  We  speak  but  little,  and  then  mostly 
in  echoes  of  each  other's  thoughts.  "  This  is  more  than  mere 
enjoyment  of  Nature,"  said  my  friend,  on  such  an  evening : 
"  it  is  worship." 

Speaking  of  my  friend,  it  is  no  more  than  just  that  I 
should  confess  how  much  of  the  luck  of  this  Nile  voyage  IB 
owing  to  him,  and  therein  may  be  the  secret  of  my  complete 
satisfaction  and  the  secret  of  the  disappointment  of  others.  It 
\s  more  easy  and  yet  more  difficult  for  persons  to  harmonize 
while  travelling,  than  when  at  home.  By  this  I  mean,  that 
men  of  kindred  natures  and  aims  find  each  other  more  readily 


1CT    COMRADE.  95 

»nd  confide  in  each  other  more  freely,  while  the  least  jarring 
element  rapidly  drives  others  further  and  further  apart.  No 
confr-ssional  so  completely  reveals  the  whole  man  as  the  com- 
panionship of  travel.  It  is  not  possible  to  wear  the  conven- 
tional masks  of  Society,  and  one  repulsive  feature  is  often 
enough  to  neutralize  many  really  good  qualities.  On  the  other 
hand,  a  congeniality  of  soul  and  temperament  speedily  ripens 
into  the  firmest  friendship  and  doubles  every  pleasure  which  it> 
mutually  enjoyed.  My  companion  widely  differs  from  me  in 
age,  in  station,  and  in  his  experiences  of  life ;  but  to  one  of 
those  open,  honest  and  loving  natures  which  are  often  found  in 
his  native  Saxony,  he  unites  a  most  warm  and  thorough  appre- 
ciation of  Beauty  in  Nature  or  Art.  We  harmonize  to  a  mir- 
acle, and  the  parting  with  him  at  Assouan  will  be  the  sorest 
pang  of  my  journey. 

My  friend,  the  Howadji,  in  whose  "Nile-Notes"  the 
Egyptian  atmosphere  is  so  perfectly  reproduced,  says  that 
"  Conscience  falls  asleep  on  the  Nile."  If  by  this  he  means 
that  artificial  quality  which  bigots  and  sectarians  call  Con- 
science, I  quite  agree  with  him,  and  do  not  blame  the  Nile  for 
its  soporific  powers.  But  that  simple  faculty  of  the  soul,  na- 
tive to  all  men,  which  acts  best  when  it  acts  unconsciously, 
and  leads  our  passions  and  desires  into  right  paths  without 
seeming  to  lead  them,  is  vastly  strengthened  by  this  quiet  and 
healthy  life.  There  is  a  cathedral-like  solemnity  in  the  air  of 
Egypt ;  one  feels  the  presence  of  the  altar,  and  is  a  bettei 
man  without  his  will.  To  those  rendered  misanthropic  by 
disappointed  ambition — mistrustful  by  betrayed  confidence- 
despairing  by  unassuageable  sorrow — let  me  repeat  the  motU 
ahich  heads  this  chapter 


96  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

I  have  endeavored  to  picture  our  mode  of  life  as  faithfull} 
and  minutely  as  possible,  because  it  bears  no  resemblance  to 
travel  in  any  other  part  of  the  world.  Into  the  neart  of  a 
Darbarous  continent  and  a  barbarous  land,  we  carry  with  us 
every  desirable  comfort  and  luxury.  In  no  part  of  Europe  or 
America  could  we  be  so  thoroughly  independent,  -vithout  un- 
dergoing considerable  privations,  and  wholly  losing  that  sense 
of  rest  which  is  the  greatest  enjoyment  of  this  journey.  We 
are  cut  off  from  all  communication  with  the  great  world  of 
politics,  merchandise  and  usury,  and  remember  it  only  through 
the  heart,  not  through  the  brain.  We  go  ashore  in  the  deli- 
cious mornings,  breathe  the  elastic  air,  and  wander  through 
the  palm-groves,  as  happy  and  care-free  as  two  Adams  in  a 
Paradise  without  Eves.  It  is  an  episode  which  will  flow  fop> 
ward  in  the  under-currents  of  our  natures  through  the  rest  of 
our  lives,  soothing  and  refreshing  us  whenever  it  rises  to  the 
surface.  '  I  do  not  reproach  myself  for  this  passive  and  sensu- 
ous^  existence.  I  give  myself  up  to  it  unreservedly,  and  if 
some  angular-souled  utilitarian  should  come  along  and  recom 
mend  me  to  shake  off  my  laziness,  and  learn  the  conjugations 
of  Coptic  verbs  or  the  hieroglyphs  of  Kneph  and  Thoth,  I 
should  not  take  the  pipe  from  my  mouth  to  answer  him.  My 
friend  sometimes  laughingly  addresses  me  with  two  lines  of 
Hebel  a  quaint  Allemanic  poetry  : 

"  Ei  solch  a  Leben,  junges  Blnat, 
Desh  ish  wohl  ffir  a  Thieiie  guat." 

(such  a  life,  young  blood,  best  befits  an  animal),  but  I  tell  him 
that  the  wisdom  of  the  Black  Forest  won't  answer  for  the 
Nile.  If  any  one  persists  in  forcing  the  application,  I  prefer 


OB8KHVA1JON     V.S.   DESCRIPTION.  97 

Deing  called  an  animal  to  changing  my  present  nabits.  An 
entire  life  so  spent  would  be  wretchedly  aimless,  but  a  few 
months  are  in  truth  "  sore  labor's  bath  "  to  every  wrung  heart 
and  overworked  brain. 

I  could  say  much  more,  but  it  requires  no  little  effort  to 
write  three  hours  in  a  cabin,  when  the  palms  are  rustling  then 
tops  outside,  the  larks  singing  in  the  meadows,  and  the  odor  of 
mimosa  flowers  breathing  through  the  windows.  To  travel  and 
write,  is  like  inhaling  and  exhaling  one's  breath  at  the  same 
moment.  You  take  in  impressions  at  every  pore  of  the  mind 
and  the  process  is  so  pleasant,  that  you  sweat  them  out  again 
most  reluctantly.  Lest  I  should  overtake  the  remedy  with 
the  disease,  and  make  to-day  Labor,  which  should  be  Rest,  1 
shall  throw  down  the  pen.  and  mount  yonder  donkey  which 
stands  patiently  on  the  bank,  waiting  to  carry  me  to  Siont 
rnce  more,  before  starting  for  Thebes. 


98  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

UPPER     EGYPT. 

Calm— Mountains  and  Tombs — A  Night  Adventure  in  Ekhmin— Character  of  the 
Boatmen — Fair  Wind — Pilgrims— Egyptian  Agriculture — Suear  and  Cotton — 
Grain— Sheep— Arrival  at  Kenneh— A  Landscape — The  Temple  of  Dendera— 
First  Impressions  of  Egyptian  Art — Portrait  of  Cleopatra— A  Happy  Meeting 
— We  approach  Thebes. 

OCR  men  were  ready  at  the  appointed  time,  and  precisely 
iwenty-four  hours  after  reaching  the  port  of  Siout  we  spread 
our  sails  for  Kenneh,  and  exchanged  a  parting  salute  with  the 
boat  of  a  New  York  physician,  which  arrived  some  hours  after 
us.  The  north  wind,  which  had  been  blowing  freshly  during 
the  whole  of  our  stay,  failed  us  almost  within  sight  of  the  port, 
and  was  followed  by  three  days  of  breathless  calm,  during 
which  time  we  made  about  twelve  miles  a  day,  by  towing. 
My  friend  and  I  spent  half  the  time  on  shore,  wandering  in- 
land through  the  fields  and  making  acquaintances  in  the  vil- 
lages. We  found  such  tours  highly  interesting  and  refreshing, 
but  nevertheless  always  returned  to  our  floating  Castle  of  In- 
dolence, doubly  delighted  with  its  home-like  cabin  and  lazy  di 
vans.  Many  of  the  villages  in  this  region  are  built  among  the 
mounds  of  ancient  cities,  the  names  whereof  are  faithfully  enu- 
merated in  the  guide-book,  but  as  the  cities  themselves 


MOUN'TAINS,    TOMBS    AND    RUINS.  99 

wholly  disappeared,  we  were  spared  the  necessity  of  seeking 
for  their  ruins. 

On  the  third  night  after  leaving  Siout,  we  passed  the  vil 
lage  of  Gow  el-Kebir,  the  ancient  Antaeopolis,  whose  beautiful 
temple  has  been  entirely  destroyed  during  the  last  twenty-five 
years,  partly  washed  away  by  the  Nile  and  partly  pulled  down 
to  furnish  materials  for  the  Pasha's  palace  at  Siout.  Near 
this  the  famous  battle  between  Hercules  and  Antaeus  is  re- 
ported to  have  taken  place.  The  fable  of  Antaeus  drawing 
strength  from  the  earth  appears  quite  natural,  after  one  has 
seen  the  fatness  of  the  soil  of  Upper  Egypt.  We  ran  the 
gauntlet  of  Djebel  Shekh  Hereedee,  a  mountain  similar  to 
Aboufayda  in  form,  but  much  more  lofty  and  imposing.  It 
has  also  its  legend :  A  miraculous  serpent,  say  the  Arabs,  has 
lived  for  centuries  in  its  caverns,  and  possesses  the  power  of 
healing  diseases.  All  these  mountains,  on  the  eastern  bank 
of  the  Nile,  are  pierced  with  tombs,  and  the  openings  are 
sometimes  so  frequent  and  so  near  to  each  other  as  to  resem- 
ble a  colonnade  along  the  rocky  crests.  They  rarely  contain 
inscriptions,  and  many  of  them  were  inhabited  by  hermits  and 
holy  men,  during  the  early  ages  of  Christianity.  At  the  most 
accessible  points  the  Egyptians  have  commenced  limestone 
quarries,  and  as  they  are  more  concerned  in  preserving  piastres 
than  tombs,  their  venerable  ancestors  are  dislodged  without 
scruple.  Whoever  is  interested  in  Egyptian  antiquities, 
should  not  postpone  his  visit  longer.  Not  only  Turks,  but 
Europeans  are  engaged  in  the  work  of  demolition,  and  the  very 
antiquarians  who  profess  the  greatest  enthusiasm  for  these 
monuments,  are  ruthless  Vandals  towards  them  when  they 
Dave  the  power. 


100  JOURNEY    TO    CENI'KAL    AFRICA. 

"We  dashed  past  the  mountain  of  Shekh  Hereedee  in  gal 
iant  style,  and  the  same  night,  after  dusk,  reached  Ekhmin, 
the  ancient  Panopolis.  This  was  one  of  the  oldest  cities  in 
Egypt,  and  dedicated  to  the  Phallic  worship,  whose  first  sym- 
bol, the  obelisk,  has  now  a  purely  monumental  significance. 
A.  few  remnants  of  this  singular  ancient  faith  appear  to  be  re- 
tained among  the  modern  inhabitants  of  Ekhmin,  but  only  iu 
the  grossest  superstitions,  and  without  reference  to  the  ab- 
stract creative  principle  typified  by  the  Phallic  emblems. 
The  early  Egyptians  surrounded  with  mystery  and  honored 
with  all  religious  solemnity  what  they  regarded  as  the  highest 
human  miracle  wrought  by  the  power  of  their  gods,  and  in  a 
philosophical  point  of  view,  there  is  no  branch  of  their  com- 
plex faith  more  interesting  than  this. 

As  we  sat  on  the  bank  in  the  moonlight,  quietly  smoking 
our  pipes,  the  howling  of  a  company  of  dervishes  sounded  from 
the  town,  whose  walls  are  a  few  hundred  paces  distant  from 
the  river.  We  inquired  of  the  guard  whether  a  Frank  dare 
visit  them.  He  could  not  tell,  but  offered  to  accompany  me 
and  try  to  procure  an  entrance.  I  took  Achmet  and  two  of 
our  sailors,  donned  a  Bedouin  capote,  and  set  out  in  search  of 
the  dervishes.  The  principal  gate  of  the  town  was  closed,  and 
my  men  battered  it  vainly  with  their  clubs,  to  rouse  the  guard. 
We  wandered  for  some  time  among  the  mounds  of  Panopolis, 
stumbling  over  blocks  of  marble  and  granite,  under  palrue 
eighty  feet  high,  standing  clear  and  silvery  in  the  moonlight 
At  last,  the  clamor  of  the  wolfish  dogs  we  waked  up  on  the 
road,  brought  us  one  of  the  watchers  outside  of  the  walls, 
whom  we  requested  to  admit  us  into  the  city.  He  replied 
that  this  could  not  be  done.  "  But,"  said  Achmet,  "  here  ia 


A    NIGHT    ADVENTURE.  101 

an  Effendi  who  has  just  arrived,  and  must  visit  the  inollahs 
to-night ;  admit  him  and  fear  nothing."  The  men  thereupon 
conducted  us  to  another  gate  and  threw  a  few  pebbles  against 
the  window  above  it.  A  woman's  voice  replied,  and  presently 
the  bolts  were  undrawn  and  we  entered.  By  this  time  the 
dervishes  had  ceased  their  howliugs,  and  every  thing  was  as 
still  as  death.  We  walked  for  half  an  hour  through  the  de- 
serted streets,  visited  the  mosques  and  public  buildings,  and 
heard  no  sound  but  our  own  steps.  It  was  a  strangely  inter- 
esting promenade.  The  Arabs,  armed  with  clubs,  carried  a 
paper  lantern,  which  flickered  redly  on  the  arches  and  courts 
we  passed  through.  My  trusty  Theban  walked  by  my  side, 
and  took  all  possible  trouble  to  find  the  retreat  of  the  der- 
vishes— but  in  vain.  We  passed  out  through  the  gate,  which 
was  instantly  locked  behind  us,  and  had  barely  reached  our 
vessel,  when  the  unearthly  song  of  the  Moslem  priests,  louder 
and  wilder  than  ever,  came  to  our  ears. 

The  prejudice  of  the  Mohammedans  against  the  Christiana 
is  wearing  away  with  their  familiarity  with  the  Frank  dress 
and  their  adoption  of  Frankish  vices.  The  Prophet's  injunc- 
tion against  wine  is  heeded  by  few  of  his  followers,  or  avoided 
by  drinking  arakee,  a  liquor  distilled  from  dates  and  often  fla- 
vored with  hemp  Their  conscience  is  generally  satisfied  with 
a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca  and  the  daily  performance  of  the  pre- 
scribed prayers,  though  the  latter  is  often  neglected.  All  of 
my  sailors  were  very  punctual  in  this  respect,  spreading  their 
carpets  on  the  forward  deck,  and  occupying  an  hour  or  two 
every  day  with  genuflexions,  prostrations,  and  salutations  to- 
ward Mecca,  the  direction  of  which  they  never  lost,  notwith 
standing  the  windings  of  the  Nile.  In  the  cathedrals  of  Chris 


102  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

tun  Europe  I  hare  often  seen  pantomimes  quite  as  unneoes 
•ary ,  performed  with  less  apparent  reverence.  The  people  ol 
Egypt  are  fully  as  honest  and  well-disposed  as  the  greatei 
part  of  the  Italian  peasantry.  They  sometimes  deceive  in 
small  tilings,  and  are  inclined  to  take  trifling  advantages,  but 
that  is  the  natural  result  of  living  under  a  government  whose 
only  rule  is  force,  and  which  does  not  even  hesitate  to  use 
fraud.  Their  good  humor  is  inexhaustible.  A  single  friendly 
word  wins  them,  and  even  a  little  severity  awakes  no  lasting 
feeling  of  revenge.  I  should  much  rather  trust  myself  alone 
among  the  Egyptian  Fellahs,  than  among  the  peasants  of  the 
Campagna,  or  the  boors  of  Carinthia.  Notwithstanding  our 
men  had  daily  opportunities  of  plundering  us,  we  never  missed 
a  single  article.  We  frequently  went  ashore  with  our  drago- 
man, leaving  every  thing  in  the  cabin  exposed,  and  especially 
such  articles  as  tobacco,  shot,  dates,  &c.,  which  would  most 
tempt  an  Arab,  yet  our  confidence  was  never  betrayed.  W< 
often  heard  complaints  from  travellers  in  other  boats,  but  I 
am  satisfied  that  any  one  who  will  enforce  obedience  at  the 
start,  and  thereafter  give  none  but  just  and  reasonable  com 
Bands,  need  have  no  difficulty  with  his  crew. 

The  next  morning,  the  wind  being  light,  we  walked  for- 
ward to  El  Menschieh,  a  town  about  nine  miles  distant  from 
Ekhmin.  It  was  market-day,  and  the  bazaar  was  crowded 
with  the  countrymen,  who  had  brought  their  stock  of  grain. 
«ugar-cane  «nd  vegetables.  The  men  were  taller  and  more 
than  in  Lower  Egypt,  and  were  evidently  descended 
a  more  intelligent  and  energetic  stock.  They  looked  at 
as  curiously,  but  with  a  sort  of  friendly  interest,  and  cour- 
teously made  way  for  us  as  we  passed  through  the  narrow  bar 


•OTPTIAS    AOKICrLTURB.  lOc 

ear.  In  the  afternoon  the  wind  increased  to  a  small  gale,  and 
bore  us  rapidly  past  Gebel  Tookh  to  the  city  of  Girgeh.  64 
named  in  Coptic  times  from  the  Christian  saint,  George. 
Like  Manfalout,  it  has  been  half  washed  away  by  the  Nile, 
and  two  lofty  minarets  were  hanging  on  the  brink  of  the  slip- 
pery bank,  awaiting  their  torn  to  falL  About  twelve  miles 
from  Girgeh,  in  the  Libyan  Desert,  are  the  ruins  of  Abydus, 
now  covered  by  the  sand,  except  the  top  of  the  portico  and 
roof  of  the  temple-palace  of  Sesostris,  and  part  of  the  temple 
of  Osiris.  We  held  a  council  whether  we  should  waste  the 
favorable  wind  or  miss  Abydus,  and  the  testimony  of  Achmet, 
who  had  visited  the  ruins,  haying  been  taken,  we  chose  the 
latter  alternative.  By  this  time  Girgeh  was  nearly  out  of 
sight,  and  we  comforted  ourselves  with  the  hope  of  soon  see- 
ing Dendera, 

The  pilgrims  to  Mecca,  by  the  Kenneh  and  Kosseir  route, 
were  on  their  return,  and  we  met  a  number  of  boats,  crowded 
with  them,  on  their  way  to  Cairo  from  the  former  place. 
Most  of  the  boats  carried  the  red  flag,  with  the  star  and  cres- 
cent. On  the  morning  after  leaving  Girgeh,  we  took  a  long 
stroll  through  the  fields  of  Farshoot,  which  is,  after  Siout,  the 
richest  agricultural  district  of  Upper  Egypt.  An  excellent 
system  of  irrigation,  by  means  of  rem*!^  is  kept  up,  and  the 
result  shows  what  might  be  made  of  Egypt,  were  its  great  nat- 
ural resources  rightly  employed.  The  Nile  offers  a  perpetual 
fountain  of  plenty  and  prosperity,  and  its  long  valley,  from 
Nubia  to  the  sea,  would  become,  in  other  hands,  the  garden  of 
the  world.  So  rich  and  pregnant  a  soil  I  have  never  8MB. 
Here,  side  by  side,  flourish  wheat,  maize,  cotton,  BUJ 


indigo,  hemp,  rice,  dourra,  tobacco,  olives,  dates,  oranges,  and 


104  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

»he  vegetables  and  fruits  of  nearly  every  climate.  The  wheatj 
which,  in  November,  we  found  young  and  green,  would  in 
March  be  ripe  for  the  sickle,  and  the  people  were  cutting  and 
threshing  fields  of  dourra,  which  they  had  planted  towards  the 
end  of  summer.  Except  where  the  broad  meadows  are  first  re- 
claimed from  the  rank,  tufted  grass  which  has  taken  posses- 
sion of  them,  the  wheat  is  sowed  upon  the  ground,  and  then 
ploughed  in  by  a  sort  of  crooked  wooden  beam,  shod  with  iron, 
and  drawn  by  two  camels  or  buffaloes.  I  saw  no  instance  it 
which  the  soil  was  manured.  The  yearly  deposit  made  by  the 
bountiful  river  seems  to  be  sufficient.  The  natives,  it  is  true, 
possess  immense  numbers  of  pigeons,  and  every  village  is 
adorned  with  towers,  rising  above  the  mud  huts  like  the  py- 
lons of  temples,  and  inhabited  by  these  birds.  The  manure 
collected  from  them  is  said  to  be  used,  but  probably  only  in 
the  culture  of  melons,  cucumbers,  and  other  like  vegetables 
with  which  the  gardens  are  stocked. 

The  fields  of  sugar-cane  about  Farshoot  were  the  richest  I 
saw  in  Egypt.  Near  the  village,  which  is  three  miles  from  the 
Nile,  there  is  a  steam  sugar-refinery,  established  by  Ibrahim 
Pasha,  who  seems  to  have  devoted  much  attention  to  the  cul- 
ture of  cane,  with  a  view  to  his  own  profit.  There  are  several 
of  these  manufactories  along  the  Nile,  and  the  most  of  them 
were  in  full  operation,  as  we  passed.  At  Radamoon,  between 
Minyeh  and  Siout,  there  is  a  larg^  manufactory,  where  the 
common  coarse  sugar  made  in  the  Fellah  villages  is  refined  and 
Bent  to  Cairo.  We  made  use  of  this  sugar  in  our  household 
and  found  it  to  be  of  excellent  quality,  though  coarser  than 
that  of  the  American  manufactories.  The  culture  of  cotton 
bas  not  been  so  successful  The  large  and  handsome  tuauufao 


VEGETABLES    AND    GRAIN.  105 

tory  built  at  Kenneh,  is  no  longer  in  operation,  and  the  fields 
which  we  saw  1here,  had  a  forlorn,  neglected  appearance.  The 
plants  grow  luxuriantly,  and  the  cotton  is  of  fine  quality  but 
Ihe  pods  are  small  and  not  very  abundant.  About  Siout,  and 
in  Middle  and  Lower  Egypt,  we  saw  many  fields  of  indigo, 
which  is  said  to  thrive  well.  Peas,  beans  and  lentils  are  cul- 
tivated to  a  great  extent,  and  form  an  important  item  of  the 
food  of  the  inhabitants.  The  only  vegetables  we  could  procure 
for  our  kitchen,  were  onions,  radishes,  lettuce  and  spinage. 
The  Arabs  are  very  fond  of  the  tops  of  radishes,  and  eat  them 
with  as  much  relish  as  their  donkeys. 

One  of  the  principal  staples-of  Egypt  is  the  dourra  (holcus 
sorghum),  which  resembles  the  zca  (maize)  in  many  respects. 
In  appearance,  it  is  very  like  broom-corn,  but  instead  of 
the  long,  loose  panicle  of  red  seeds,  is  topped  by  a  compact  cone 
of  grains,  smaller  than  those  of  maize,  but  resembling  them  in 
form  and  taste.  The  stalks  are  from  ten  to  fifteen  feet  high, 
and  the  heads  frequently  contain  as  much  substance  as  two  ears 
of  maize.  It  is  planted  in  close  rows,  and  when  ripe  is  cut  by 
the  hand  with  a  short  sickle,  after  which  the  heads  are  taken 
off  and  threshed  separately.  The  grain  is  fed  to  horses,  don- 
keys and  fowls,  and  in  Upper  Egypt  is  used  almost  universally 
for  bread.  It  is  of  course  very  imperfectly  ground,  and  unbolt- 
ed, and  the  bread  is  coarse  and  dark,  though  nourishing.  In 
the  Middle  and  Southern  States  of  America  this  grain  would 
thrive  well  and  might  be  introduced  with  advantage. 

The  plains  of  coarse,  wiry  grass  (half eh),  which  in  mauj 

points  on  the  Nile  show  plainly  the  neglect  of  the  inhabitants, 

who  by  a  year's  labor  might  convert  them  into  blooming  fields, 

ore  devoted  to  the  pasturage  of  large  herds  of  sheep,  and  goats, 

5» 


106  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

and  sometimes  droves  of  buffaloes.  The  sheep  arc  all  bla.'k  01 
dark-brown,  and  their  bushy  heads  remind  one  of  terriers. 
The  wool  is  rather  coarse,  and  when  roughly  spun  and  woven 
by  the  Arabs,  in  its  natural  color,  forms  the  mantle,  something 
like  a  Spanish  poncho,  which  is  usually  the  Fellah's  only  gar- 
ment. The  mutton,  almost  the  only  meat  to  be  found,  is  gen- 
erally lean,  and  brings  a  high  price,  considering  the  abundance 
of  sheep.  The  flesh  of  buffaloes  is  eaten  by  the  Arabs,  but  is 
too  tough,  and  has  too  rank  a  flavor,  for  Christian  stomachs. 
The  goats  are  beautiful  animals,  with  heads  as  slender  and 
delicate  as  those  of  gazelles.  They  have  short,  black  horns, 
curving  downward — long,  silky*  ears,  and  a  peculiarly  mild  and 
friendly  expression  of  countenance.  We  had  no  difficulty  in 
procuring  milk  in  the  villages,  and  sometimes  fresh  butter, 
which  was  more  agreeable  to  the  taste  than  the  sight.  The  mode 
of  churning  is  not  calculated  to  excite  one's  appetite.  The 
milk  is  tied  up  in  a  goat's  skin,  and  suspended  by  a  rope  to 
the  branch  of  a  tree.  One  of  the  Arab  housewives  (who  are 
all  astonishingly  ugly  and  filthy)  then  stations  herself  on  one 
side,  and  propels  it  backward  and  forward  till  the  process  is 
completed.  The  cheese  of  the  country  resembles  a  mixture  of 
eand  and  slacked  lime,  and  has  an  abominable  flavor. 

Leaving  Farshoot,  we  swept  rapidly  past  Haou,  the  ancient 
Diospolis  parva,  or  Little  Thebes,  of  which  nothing  is  left  but 
some  heaps  of  dirt,  sculptured  fragments,  and  the  tomb  of  a 
certain  Dionysius,  son  of  a  certain  Ptolemy.  The  course  of 
the  mountains,  which  follow  the  Nile,  is  here  nearly  east  and 
west,  as  the  river  makes  a  long  curve  to  the  eastward  on  ap- 
proaching Kenneh.  The  valley  is  inclosed  within  narrower 
bounds,  and  the  Arabian  Mountains  on  the  north,  shooting  out 


KBNNEH.  lOV 

into  bold  promontories  from  the  main  chain,  sometimes  ris« 
from  the  water's  edge  in  bluffs  many  hundred  feet  in  height 
The  good  wind,  which  had  so  befriended  us  for  three  days,  fol- 
lowed us  all  night,  and  when  we  awoke  on  the  morning  of  De- 
cumber  4th,  our  vessel  lay  at  anchor  in  the  port  of  Kenneh, 
having  beaten  by  four  hours  the  boat  of  our  American  friend, 
which  was  reputed  to  be  one  of  the  swiftest  on  the  river. 

Kenueh,  which  lies  about  a  mile  east  of  the  river,  is  cele- 
brated for  the  manufacture  of  porous  water-jars,  and  is  an  infe- 
rior mart  of  trade  with  Persia  and  India,  by  means  of  Kosseir, 
on  the  Red  Sea,  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  distant.  The 
town  is  large,  but  mean  in  aspect,  and  does  not  offer  a  single 
object  of  interest.  It  lies  in  the  centre  of  a  broad  plain.  We 
rode  through  the  bazaars,  which  were  tolerably  well  stocked 
and  crowded  with  hadji,  or  pilgrims  of  Mecca.  My  friend, 
who  wished  to  make  a  flag  of  the  Saxe-Coburg  colors,  for  hie 
return  voyage,  tried  in  vain  to  procure  a  piece  of  green  cotton 
cloth.  Every  other  color  was  to  be  had  but  green,  which,  aa 
the  sacred  hue,  worn  only  by  the  descendants  of  Mohammed, 
was  nowhere  to  be  found.  He  was  finally  obliged  to  buy  a 
piece  of  white  stuff  and  have  it  specially  dyed.  It  came  back 
the  same  evening,  precisely  the  color  of  the  Shereef  of  Mecca's 
turban. 

On  the  western  bank  of  the  Nile,  opposite  Kenneh,  is  the 
site  of  the  city  of  Teutyra,  famed  for  its  temple  of  Athor. 
It  is  now  called  Dendera,  from  the  modern  Arab  village. 
After  breakfast,  we  shipped  ourselves  and  our  donkeys  across 
the  Nile,  and  rode  off  in  high  excitement,  to  make  our  firs* 
acquaintance  with  Egyptian  temples.  The  path  led  through  a 
palm  grove,  which  in  richness  and  lieautv  rivalled  those  of  the 


108  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL   AFR1OA. 

Mexican  tierra  caliente  The  lofty  shafts  of  the  date  and  th« 
vaulted  foliage  of  the  doum-palm,  blended  in  the  most  pictu- 
resque groupage,  contrasted  with  the  lace-like  texture  of  the 
flowering  mimosa,  and  the  cloudy  boughs  of  a  kind  of  gray  cy- 
press. The  turf  under  the  trees  was  soft  and  green,  and  between 
the  slim  trunks  we  looked  over  the  plain,  to  the  Libyan  Moun- 
tains— a  long  train  of  rosy  lights  and  violet  shadows.  Out  of 
this  lovely  wood  we  passed  between  magnificent  fields  of  dourra 
and  the  castor-oil  bean,  fifteen  feet  in  height,  to  a  dyke  which 
crossed  the  meadows  to  Dendera.  The  leagues  of  rank  grass  on 
our  right  rolled  away  to  the  Desert  in  shining  billows,  and  the 
fresh  west-wind  wrapped  us  in  a  bath  of  intoxicating  odors.  ID 
the  midst  of  this  green  and  peaceful  plain  rose  the  earthy 
mounds  of  Tentyra,  and  the  portico  of  the  temple,  almost  buried 
beneath  them,  stood  like  a  beacon,  marking  the  boundary  of  the 
Desert. 

We  galloped  our  little  animals  along  the  dyke,  over  heaps 
of  dirt  and  broken  bricks,  among  which  a  number  of  Arabs 
were  burrowing  for  nitrous  earth,  and  dismounted  at  a  small 
pylon,  which  stands  two  or  three  hundred  paces  in  front  of  tho 
temple.  The  huge  jambs  of  sandstone,  covered  with  sharply 
out  hieroglyphics  and  figures  of  the  Egyptian  gods,  and  sur- 
mounted by  a  single  block,  bearing  the  mysterious  winged  globe 
and  serpent,  detained  us  but  a  moment,  and  we  hurried  down 
what  was  once  the  dromos  of  the  temple,  now  represented  by  a 
double  wall  of  uuburnt  bricks.  The  portico,  more  than  a  hundred 
feet  in  length,  and  supported  by  six  columns,  united  by  screens 
of  masonry,  no  stone  of  which,  or  of  the  columns  themselves,  is 
unsculptured,  is  massive  and  imposing,  but  struck  me  as  being 
too  depressed  to  produce  a  very  grand  effect.  -What  was  joy 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  DENDERA.  109 

astonishment,  on  arriving  at  the  entrance,  to  find  that  1  had 
approached  the  temple  on  a  level  with  half  its  height,  and  that 
the  pavement  of  the  portico  was  as  far  below  as  the  scrolls  of 
its  cornice  were  above  me.  The  six  columns  I  had  seen  cover- 
ed three  other  rows,  of  six  each,  all  adorned  with  the  mosf 
elaborate  sculpture  and  exhibiting  traces  of  the  brilliant  color- 
ing which  they  once  possessed.  The  entire  temple,  which  is  in 
an  excellent  state  of  preservation,  except  where  the  hand  of  the 
Coptic  Christian  has  defaced  its  sculptures,  was  cleaned  out  by 
order  of  Mohammed  Ali,  and  as  all  its  chambers,  as  well  as 
the  roof  of  enormous  sand-stone  blocks,  are  entire,  it  is  consid- 
ered one  of  the  most  complete  relics  of  Egyptian  art. 

I  find  my  pen  at  fault,  when  I  attempt  to  describe  the  im- 
pression produced  by  the  splendid  portico.  The  twenty-four 
columns,  each  of  which  is  sixty  feet  in  height,  and  eight  feet  in 
diameter,  crowded  upon  a  surface  of  one  hundred  feet  by 
seventy,  are  oppressive  in  their  grandeur.  The  dim  light, 
admitted  through  the  half  closed  front,  which  faces  the  north, 
spreads  a  mysterious  gio^m  around  these  mighty  shafts,  crown- 
ed with  the  fourfold  visage  of  Athor,  still  rebuking  the  im- 
pious hands  that  have  marred  her  solemn  beauty.  On  the 
walls,  between  columns  of  hieroglyphics,  and  the  cartouches  of 
the  Caesars  and  the  Ptolemies,  appear  the  principal  Egyptian 
deities — the  rigid  Osiris,  the  stately  Isis  and  the  hawk-headed 
Oras.  Around  the  bases  of  the  columns  spring  the  leaves  of 
the  sacred  lotus,  and  the  dark- blue  ceiling  is  spangled  with 
stars,  between  the  wings  of  the  divine  emblem.  The  sculptures 
are  all  in  raised  relief,  and  there  is  no  stone  in  the  temple 
without  them.  I  cannot  explain  to  myself  the  unusual  emotion 
I  felt  while  contemplating  this  wonderful  combination  of  t 


110  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

simple  and  sublime  architectural  style  with  the  utmost  elabo 
ration  of  ornament.  My  blood  pulsed  fast  and  warm  on  my 
first  view  of  the  Roman  Forum,  but  in  Dendera  I  was  so  sad- 
dened and  oppressed,  that  I  scarcely  dared  speak  for  fear  of 
betraying  an  unmanly  weakness.  My  friend  walked  silently 
between  the  columns,  with  a  face  as  rigidly  sad  as  if  he  had 
just  looked  on  the  coffin  of  his  nearest  relative.  Though  such 
a  mood  was  more  painful  than  agreeable,  it  required  some  effort 
to  leave  the  place,  and  after  a  stay  of  two  hours,  we  still  lin- 
gered in  the  portico  and  walked  through  the  inner  halls,  under 
the  spell  of  a  fascination  which  we  had  hardly  power  to  break. 
The  portico  opens  into  a  hall,  supported  by  six  beautiful 
columns,  of  smaller  proportions,  and  lighted  by  a  square  aper- 
ture in  the  solid  roof.  On  either  side  are  chambers  connected 
with  dun  and  lofty  passages,  and  beyond  is  the  sanctuary  and 
various  other  apartments,  which  receive  no  light  from  without. 
We  examined  their  sculptures  by  the  aid  of  torches,  and  our 
Arab  attendants  kindled  large  fires  of  dry  corn  stalks,  which 
cast  a  strong  red  light  on  the  walls.  The  temple  is  devoted  to 
Athor,  the  Egyptian  Venus,  and  her  image  is  everywhere  seen, 
receiving  the  homage  of  her  worshippers.  Even  the  dark  stair 
case,  leading  to  the  root — up  which  we  climbed  over  heaps  of 
sand  and  rubbish — is  decorated  throughout  with  processions  of 
symbolical  figures.  The  drawing  has  little  of  that  grotesque 
stiffness  which  I  expected  to  find  in  Egyptian  sculptures,  and 
the  execution  is  so  admirable  in  its  gradations  of  light  and 
shade,  as  to  resemble,  at  a  little  distance,  a  monochromatic 
painting.  The  antiquarians  view  these  remains  with  little 
interest,  as  they  date  from  the  comparatively  recent  era  of  the 
Ptolemies,  at  which  time  sculpture  and  architecture  were  or 


THE  PORTRAIT  OF  CLEOPATRA.  Ill 

the  decline.  We,  who  had  seen  nothing  else  of  the  kind, 
were  charmed  with  the  grace  and  elegance  of  this  sumptuous 
mode  of  decoration.  Part  of  the  temple  was  built  by  Cleopatra, 
whose  portrait,  with  that  of  her  son  Csesarion,  may  still  be 
seen  on  the  exterior  wall.  The  face  of  the  colossal  figure  has 
been  nearly  destroyed,  but  there  is  a  smaller  one,  whose  soft, 
voluptuous  outline  is  still  sufficient  evidence  of  the  justness  of 
her  renown.  The  profile  is  exquisitely  beautiful.  The  fore- 
head and  nose  approach  the  Greek  standard,  but  the  mouth  is 
more  roundly  and  delicately  curved,  and  the  chin  and  cheek 
are  fuller.  Were  such  an  outline  made  plastic,  were  the  blank 
face  colored  with  a  pale  olive  hue,  through  which  should  blush  a 
faint  rosy  tinge,  lighted  with  bold  black  eyes  and  irradiated 
with  the  lightning  of  a  passionate  nature,  it  would  even  now 
'  move  the  mighty  hearts  of  captains  and  of  kings." 

Around  the  temple  and  over  the  mounds  of  the  ancient 
city  are  scattered  the  ruins  of  an  Arab  village  which  the  in- 
habitants suddenly  deserted,  without  any  apparent  reason,  two 
or  three  years  previous  to  our  visit.  Behind  it,  stretches  the 
yellow  sand  of  the  Desert.  The  silence  and  aspect  of  deser- 
tion harmonize  well  with  the  spirit  of  the  place,  which  would 
be  much  disturbed  were  one  beset,  as  is  usual  in  the  Arab 
towns,  by  a  gang  of  naked  beggars  and  barking  wolf-dogs 
Besides  the  temple,  there  are  also  the  remains  of  a  chapel  ot 
Isis,  with  a  pylon,  erected  by  Augustus  Caesar,  and  a  small 
temple,  nearly  whelmed  in  the  sand,  supposed  to  be  one  of  the 
mammeisi,  or  lying-in  houses  of  the  goddess  Athor,  who  was 
honored  in  this  form,  on  account  of  having  given  birth  to  the 
third  member  of  the  divine  Triad. 

At  sunset;  we  rode  back   from  Dendera  and  set  sail  foi 


112  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Thebes.  In  the  evening,  as  we  were  sweeping  along  by  mo» 
light,  with  a  full  wind,  a  large  dahabiyeh  came  floating 
the  stream.  Achmet,  who  was  on  the  look-out,  saw  the  Amer- 
ican flag,  and  we  hailed  her.  My  delight  was  unbounded,  to 
hear  in  reply  the  voice  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Degen,  of  New  York, 
who,  with  his  lady  and  two  American  and  English  gentlemen, 
were  returning  from  a  voyage  to  Assouan.  Both  boats  in- 
stantly made  for  the  shore,  and  for  the  first  time  since  leaving 
Germany  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  familiar  faces.  For  the 
space  of  three  hours  1  forgot  Thebes  and  the  north  wind,  but 
towards  midnight  we  exchanged  a  parting  salute  of  four  guns 
and  shook  out  the  broad  sails  of  the  Cleopatra,  who  leaned  her 
cheek  to  the  waves  and  shot  off  .ike  a  sea-gull  I  am  sure  she 
must  have  looked  beautiful  to  my  friends,  as  they  stood  on 
deck  in  the  moonlight 


ARRIVAL    AT    THEBES.  113 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THEBES THE   WESTERN   BANK. 

Arrival  a.  Thebes— Ground-Plan  of  the  Remains— We  Cross  to  the  Wcstein  Bank— 
Guides— The  Temple  of  Goorneb— Valley  of  the  Kings' Tombs — Belzoni's  Tomb— 
The  Races  of  Men — Vandalism  of  Antiquarians — Bruce's  Totnb — Mumnon — Th» 
Grandfather  of  Sesostris— The  Head  of  Amunoph— The  Colossi  of  the  Plain- 
Meranonian  Music — The  Statue  of  Remeses — The  Memnonium — Beauty  of  Egyp- 
tian Art — More  Scrambles  among  the  Tombs — The  Bats  of  the  Assasseof— Medee- 
net  Abou-  -Sculptured  Histories — The  Great  Court  of  the  Temple — We  return  t« 
Luxor. 

ON  the  following  evening,  about  nine  o'clock,  as  my  friend  and 
I  were  taking  our  customary  evening  pipe  in  the  cabin,  our 
vessel  suddenly  stopped.  The  wind  was  still  blowing,  and  I 
called  to  Achmet  to  know  what  was  the  matter.  "  We  have 
reached  Luxor,"  answered  the  Theban.  We  dropped  the  she- 
books,  dashed  out,  up  the  bank,  and  saw,  facing  us  in  the 
brilliant  moonlight,  the  grand  colonnade  of  the  temple,  the 
solid  wedges  of  the  pylon,  and  the  brother-obelisk  of  that 
which  stands  in  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  in  Paris.  The 
wide  plain  of  Thebes  stretched  away  on  either  hand,  and  the 
beautiful  outlines  of  the  three  mountain  ranges  which  inclose 
it,  rose  in  the  distance  against  the  stars.  We  looked  on  the 
landscape  a  few  moments,  in  silence.  "  Come,"  said  my  friend, 
at  length,  "  this  is  enough  for  to-night.  Let  us  not  be  toe 


114  JOUKNKV    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

hasty  to  exhaust  what  is  in  store  for  us."  So  we  returned  to 
our  cabin,  closed  the  blinds,  and  arranged  our  plans  for  best 
seeing,  and  best  enjoying  the  wonders  of  the  great  Diospolia. 

Before  commencing  my  recital,  let  me  attempt  to  give  an 
outline  of  the  typography  of  Thebes.  The  course  of  the  Nile 
is  here  nearly  north,  dividing  the  site  of  the  ancient  city  into 
two  almost  equal  parts.  On  approaching  it  from  Kenueh,  the 
mountain  of  Goorneh,  which  abuts  on  the  river,  marks  the 
commencement  of  the  western  division.  This  mountain,  a 
range  of  naked  limestone  crags,  terminating  in  a  pyramidal 
peak,  gradually  recedes  to  the  distance  of  three  miles  from  the 
Nile,  which  it  again  approaches  further  south.  Nearly  the 
whole  of  the  curve,  which  might  be  called  the  western  wall  ot 
the  city,  is  pierced  with  tombs,  among  which  are  those  of  the 
queens,  and  the  grand  priestly  vaults  of  the  Assasseet'.  The 
Valley  of  the  Kings'  Tombs  lies  deep  in  the  heart  of  the 
range  seven  or  eight  miles  from  the  river.  After  passing  the 
corner  of  the  mountain,  the  first  ruin  on  the  western  bank  is 
that  of  the  temple-palace  of  Goorneh.  More  than  a  mile  fur- 
ther, at  the  base  of  the  mountain,  is  the  Memnonium,  or  tem- 
ple of  Remgses  the  Great,  between  which  and  the  Nile  the  two 
Memnonian  colossi  are  seated  on  the  plain.  Nearly  two  miles 
to  the  south  of  this  is  the  great  temple  of  Medeenet  Abou,  anc1 
the  fragments  of  other  edifices  are  met  with,  still  further  be- 
yond. On  the  eastern  bank,  nearly  opposite  Goorneh,  stands 
the  temple  of  Karnak,  about  half  a  mile  from  the  river. 
Eight  miles  eastward,  at  the  foot  of  the  Arabian  Mountains,  is 
the  small  temple  of  Medamot,  which,  ho\vev«r,  does  not  appear 
jO  have  been  included  in  the  limits  of  Thebes.  Luxor  is  di- 
rectly on  the  bank  ot  the,  Nile,  a  mile  and  a  half  south  o 


THE    WESTERN    BANK.  ]  ]  .", 

t£aruak,  and  the  plain  extends  several  miles  beyond  it,  before 
reaching  the  isolated  range,  whose  three  conical  peaks  are  the 
landmarks  of  Thebes  to  voyagers  on  the  river. 

These  distances  convey  an  idea  of  the  extent  of  the  ancient 
city,  but  fail  to  represent  the  grand  proportions  of  the  land- 
scape, so  well  fitted,  in  its  simple  and  majestic  outlines,  to  in- 
close  the  most  wonderful  structures  the  world  has  ever  seen. 
The  green  expanse  of  the  plain ;  the  airy  coloring  of  the  moun- 
tains ;  the  mild,  solemn  blue  of  the  cloudless  Egyptian  sky ; 
these  are  a  part  of  Thebes,  and  inseparable  from  the  remem- 
brance of  its  ruins. 

At  sunrise  we  crossed  to  the  western  bank  and  moored  our 
boat  opposite  Goorneh.  It  is  advisable  to  commence  with  the 
Tombs,  and  close  the  inspection  of  that  side  with  Medeenet 
Abou,  reserving  Karnak,  the  grandest  of  all,  for  the  last. 
The  most  unimportant  objects  in  Thebes  are  full  of  interest 
when  seen  first,  whereas  Karnak,  once  seen,  fills  one's  thoughts 
to  the  exclusion  of  every  thing  else.  There  are  Arab  guides 
for  each  bank,  who  are  quite  familiar  with  all  the  principal 
points,  and  who  have  a  quiet  and  unobtrusive  way  of  directing 
the  traveller,  which  I  should  be  glad  to  see  introduced  into 
England  and  Italy.  Our  guide,  old  Achmet  Gourgar,  was  a 
tall,  lean  gray-beard,  who  wore  a  white  turban  and  long  brown 
robe,  and  was  most  conscientious  in  his  endeavors  to  satisfy  us. 
We  found  several  horses  on  the  bank,  ready  saddled,  and 
choosing  two  of  the  most  promising,  set  off  on  a  stirring  gal- 
lop for  the  temple  of  Goorneh  and  the  Valley  of  the  Kings' 
Tombs,  leaving  Achmet  to  follow  with  our  breakfast,  and  the 
A.rab  boys  with  their  water  bottles. 

The  temple  of  Goorneh  was  built  for  the  worship  c 


116  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA 

the  Theban  Jupiter,  by  Osirei  and  his  son,  Remeses  the  Great, 
the  supposed  Sesostris,  nearly  fourteen  hundred  years  before 
the  Christian  era.  It  is  small,  compared  with  the  other  ruins, 
but  interesting  from  its  rude  and  massive  style,  a  remnant  of 
the  early  period  of  Egyptian  architecture.  The  two  pylons  in 
front  of  it  are  shattered  down,  and  the  dromos  of  sphinxes  has 
entirely  disappeared.  The  portico  is  supported  by  a  single 
row  of  ten  columns,  which  neither  resemble  each  other,  nor 
are  separated  by  equal  spaces.  What  is  most  singular,  is  the 
fact  that  notwithstanding  this  disproportion,  which  is  also  ob- 
servable in  the  doorways,  the  general  effect  is  harmonious. 
We  tried  to  fathom  the  secret  of  this,  and  found  no  other  ex- 
planation than  in  the  lowness  of  the  building,  and  the  rough 
granite  blocks  of  which  it  is  built.  One  seeks  no  proportion 
in  a  natural  temple  of  rock,  or  a  cirque  of  Druid  stones.  All 
that  the  eye  requires  is  rude  strength,  with  a  certain  approach 
to  order.  The  effect  produced  by  this  temple  is  of  a  similar 
character,  barring  its  historical  interest.  Its  dimensions  are 
too  small  to  be  imposing,  and  I  found,  after  passing  it  several 
times,  that  I  valued  it  more  as  a  feature  in  the  landscape, 
than  for  its  own  sake. 

The  sand  and  pebbles  clattered  under  the  hoofs  of  our 
horses,  as  we  galloped  up  the  gorge  of  Biban  el  Molo6k,  the 
"  Gates  of  the  Kings."  The  sides  are  perpendicular  cliffs  of 
yellow  rock,  which  increased  in  height,  the  further  we  advanc- 
ed, and  at  last  terminated  in  a  sort  of  basin,  shut  in  by  preci- 
pices several  hundred  feet  in  height  and  broken  into  fantastic 
turrets,  gables  and  pinnacles.  The  bottom  is  filled  with  huge 
heaps  of  sand  and  broken  stones,  left  from  the  excavation 
of  the  tombs  in  the  solid  rock.  There  are  twenty-one  tomba 


BKLZONl's    TOMB.  117 

in  this  valley,  more  than  half  of  which  are  of  great  extent  and 
richly  adorned  with  paintings  and  sculptures.  Some  hare 
been  filled  with  sand  or  otherwise  injured  by  the  occasional 
rains  which  visit  this  region,  while  a  few  are  too  small  and 
plain  to  need  visiting.  Sir  Gardner  Wilkinson  has  numbered 
them  all  in  red  chalk  at  the  entrances,  which  is  very  convenient 
to  those  who  use  his  work  on  Egypt  as  a  guide.  I  visited  ten 
of  the  principal  tombs,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  old  guide, 
who  complained  that  travellers  are  frequently  satisfied  with 
four  or  five.  The  general  arrangement  is  the  same  in  all,  bat 
they  differ  greatly  in  extent  and  in  the  character  of  their  deco- 
ration. 

The  first  we  entered  was  the  celebrated  tomb  of  Remeses 
1.,  discovered  by  Belzoni.  From  the  narrow  entrance,  a  pre- 
cipitous staircase,  the  wall8  of  which  are  covered  with  columne 
of  hieroglyphics,  descends  to  a  depth  of  forty  feet,  where  it 
strikes  a  horizontal  passage  leading  to  an  oblong  chamber,  in 
which  was  formerly  a  deep  pit,  which  Belzoni  filled.  This  pit 
protected  the  entrance  to  the  royal  chamber,  which  was  also 
carefully  walled  up.  In  the  grace  and  freedom  of  the  draw- 
ings, and  the  richness  of  their  coloring,  this  tomb  surpasses 
all  others.  The  subjects  represented  are  the  victories  of  the 
monarch,  while  in  the  sepulchral  chamber  he  is  received  into 
the  presence  of  the  gods.  The  limestone  rock  is  covered  with 
a  fine  coating  of  plaster,  on  which  the  figures  were  first  drawn 
with  red  chalk,  and  afterwards  carefully  finished  in  colors 
The  reds,  yellows,  greens  and  blues  are  very  brilliant,  but 
teem  to  have  been  employed  at  random,  the  gods  having  faces 
sometimes  of  one  color,  sometimes  of  another.  In  the  furthest 
ihamber  which  was  left  unfinished,  the  subjects  are  only 


118  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

sketched  in  red  chalk.  Some  of  them  have  the  loose  and  nn« 
certain  lines  of  a  pupil's  hand,  over  which  one  sees  the  bold 
and  rapid  corrections  of  the  master.  Many  of  the  figures  are 
remarkable  for  their  strength  and  freedom  of  outline.  I  was 
greatly  interested  in  a  procession  of  men,  representing  the  dif- 
ferent nations  of  the  earth.  The  physical  peculiarities  of  the 
Persian,  the  Jew  and  the  Ethiopian  are  therein  as  distinctly 
marked  as  at  the  present  day.  The  blacks  are  perfect  coun- 
terparts of  those  I  saw  daily  upon  the  Nile,  and  the  noses  of 
the  Jews  seem  newly  painted  from  originals  in  New  York. 
So  little  diversity  in  the  distinguishing  features  of  the  race, 
after  the  lapse  of  more  than  three  thousand  years,  is  a  strong 
argument  in  favor  of  the  new  ethnological  theory  of  the  sepa- 
rate origin  of  different  races.  Whatever  objections  may  be 
urged  against  this  theory,  the  fact  that  the  races  have  not  ma- 
terially changed  since  the  earliest  historic  times,  is  established 
by  these  Egyptian  records,  and  we  must  either  place  the  first 
appearance  of  Man  upon  the  earth  many  thousands  of  years  in 
advance  of  Bishop  Usher's  chronology,  or  adopt  the  conclusion 
of  Morton  and  Agassiz. 

The  burial-vault,  where  Belzoni  found  the  alabaster  sarco- 
phagus of  the  monarch,  is  a  noble  hall,  thirty  feet  long  by  nearly 
twenty  in  breadth  and  height,  with  four  massive  pillars  form- 
ing a  corridor  on  one  side.  In  addition  to  the  light  of  our 
torches,  the  Arabs  kindled  a  large  bonfire  in  the  centre,  which 
brought  out  in  strong  relief  the  sepulchral  figures  on  the  ueiliug, 
painted  in  white  on  a  ground  of  dark  indigo  hue.  The  pillars 
and  walls  of  the  vault  glowed  with  the  vivid  variety  of  their 
colors,  and  the  general  effect  was  unspeakably  rich  and  gor- 
geous. This  tomS  has  already  fallen  a  prey  to  worse  plunderers 


BRUCE'S  TOMB.  119 

than  the  Medes  and  Persians.  Belzoni  carried  off  the  sarco- 
phagus, Champollion  cut  away  the  splendid  jambs  and  architrave 
of  the  entrance  to  the  lower  chambers,  and  Lepsius  has  finished 
by  splitting  the  pillars  and  appropriating  their  beautiful  paint- 
ings for  the  Museum  at  Berlin.  At  one  spot,  where  the  latter 
has  totally  ruined  a  fine  doorway,  some  indignant  Frenchman 
has  written  in  red  chalk  :  "  Meurtre  commispar  Lepsius."  In 
all  the  tombs  of  Thebes,  wherever  you  see  the  most  flagrant 
and  shameless  spoliations,  the  guide  says,  "  Lepsius."  Whc 
can  blame  the  Arabs  for  wantonly  defacing  these  precious 
monuments,  when  such  an  example  is  set  them,  by  the  vanity 
of  European  antiquarians  ? 

Bruce's  Tomb,  which  extends  for  four  hundred  and  twenty 
feet  into  the  rock,  is  larger  than  Belzoni's,  but  not  so  fresh  and 
brilliant.  The  main  entrance  slopes  with  a  very  gradual  de- 
scent, and  has  on  each  side  a  number  of  small  chambers  and 
niches,  apparently  for  mummies.  The  illustrations  in  these 
chambers  are  somewhat  defaced,  but  very  curious,  on  account 
of  the  light  which  they  throw  upon  the  domestic  life  of  the 
Ancient  Egyptians.  They  represent  the  slaughtering  of  oxen, 
the  preparation  of  fowls  for  the  table,  the  kneading  and  baking 
of  bread  and  cakes,  as  well  as  the  implements  and  utensils  of 
the  kitchen.  In  other  places  the  field  laborers  are  employed 
in  leading  the  water  of  the  Nile  into  canals,  cutting  dourra, 
threshing  and  carrying  the  grain  into  magazines.  One  room 
is  filled  with  furniture,  and  the  row  of  chairs  around  the 
base  of  the  walls  would  not  be  out  of  place  in  the  most  elegant 
modern  drawing-room.  The  Illustrated  Catalogue  of  the  Lon- 
don Exhibition  contains  few  richer  and  more  graceful  patterns, 
In  a  chamber  nearer  the  royal  vault,  two  old,  blind  minstrels 


120  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

are  seen,  playing  the  harp  in  the  presence  of  the  King,  wheno* 
this  is  sometimes  called  the  Harper's  Tomb.  The  pillars  ol 
the  grand  hall,  like  those  of  all  the  other  tombs  we  visited, 
represent  the  monarch,  after  death,  received  into  the  presence 
of  the  gods — stately  figures,  with  a  calm  and  serious  aspect, 
and  lips,  which,  like  those  of  the  Sphinx,  seemed  closed  upon 
some  awful  mystery.  The  absurdity  of  the  coloring  does  not 
destroy  this  effect,  and  a  blue-faced  Isis,  whose  hard,  black  eye- 
ball stares  from  a  brilliant  white  socket,  is  not  less  impressive 
than  the  same  figure,  cut  in  sandstone  or  granite. 

The  delicacy  and  precision  of  the  hieroglyphics,  sculptured 
in  intaglio,  filled  me  with  astonishment.  In  the  tomb  of  Amunoph 
III.,  which  I  visited  the  next  day,  they  resembled  the  ciphers 
engraved  upon  seals  in  their  exquisite  sharpness  and  regularity. 
Only  the  principal  tombs,  however,  are  thus  beautified.  In 
others  the  figures  are  either  simply  painted,  or  apparently 
sunken  in  the  plaster,  while  it  was  yet  fresh,  by  prepared  pat- 
terns. The  latter  method  accounts  for  the  exact  resemblance 
of  long  processions  of  figures,  which  would  otherwise  require  a 
most  marvellous  skill  on  the  part  of  the  artist.  In  some  un- 
finished chambers  I  detected  plainly  the  traces  of  these  pat- 
terns, where  the  outlines  of  the  figures  were  blunt  and  rhe  grain 
of  the  plaster  bent,  and  not  cut.  The  family  likeness  in  the 
faces  of  the  monarchs  is  also  too  striking,  unfortunately,  for  us 
to  accept  them  all  as  faithful  portraits.  They  are  all  apparent- 
ly of  the  same  age,  and  their  attributes  do  not  materially  differ 
This  was  probably  a  flattery  on  the  part  of  the  artists,  or  the 
effect  of  a  royal  vanity,  which  required  to  be  portrayed  in  the 
freshness  of  youth  and  the  full  vigor  of  body  and  mind.  The 
first  faces  I  learned  to  recognize  were  those  of  Remeses  II., 
the  supposed  Sesostris,  and  Amunoph  III 


AN    ANCIENT   TOMB.  121 

The  tomb  of  Memnon,  as  it  was  called  by  the  Romans,  is 
the  most  elegant  of  all,  in  its  proportions,  and  is  as  symmetri- 
cal as  a  Grecian  temple.  On  the  walls  of  the  entrance  ar< 
several  inscriptions  of  Greek  tourists,  who  visited  it  in  the  era 
of  the  Ptolemies,  and  spent  their  time  in  carving  their  names, 
like  Americans  nowadays.  The  huge  granite  sarcophagus  in 
which  the  monarch's  mummy  was  deposited,  is  broken,  ad  are 
those  of  the  other  tombs,  with  a  single  exception.  This  is  the 
tomb  of  Osirei  L,  the  grandfather  of  Sesostris,  and  the  oldest, 
in  the  valley.  I  visited  it  by  crawling  through  a  hole  barely 
large  enough  to  admit  my  body,  after  which  I  slid  on  Jiy  back 
down  a  passage  nearly  choked  with  sand,  to  another  hole 
opening  into  the  burial  chamber.  Here  no  impious  hand  had 
defaced  the  walls,  but  the  figures  were  as  perfect  and  the  color- 
ing as  brilliant  as  when  first  executed.  In  the  centre  stood 
an  immense  sarcophagus,  of  a  single  block  of  red  granite,  and 
the  massive  lid,  which  had  been  thrown  off,  lay  beside  it.  The 
dust  in  the  bottom  gave  out  that  peculiar  mummy  odor  percep- 
tible in  all  the  tombs,  and  in  fact  Ion?  after  one  has  left  them, 
for  the  clothes  become  saturated  with  it.  The  guide,  delighted 
with  having  dragged  me  into  that  chamber,  buried  deep  in  the 
dumb  heart  of  the  mountain,  said  not  a  word,  and  from  the 
awful  stillness  of  the  place  and  the  phantasmagoric  gleam  of 
the  wonderful  figures  on  the  walls,  I  could  have  imagined  my- 
elf  a  neophyte,  on  the  threshold  of  the  Osirian  mysteries. 

We  rode  to  the  Western  Valley,  a  still  deeper  and  wider 
glen,  containing  tombs  of  the  kings  of  the  foreign  dynasty  of 
Atin-Re.  We  entered  the  two  principal  ones,  but  found  the 
paintings  rude  and  insignificant.  There  are  many  lateral  pan- 
sages  and  chambers  and  in  some  places  deep  pits,  along  th° 
6 


J22  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA- 

edge  of  which  we  were  obliged  to  craw*.  In  the  last  tomb  i 
very  long  and  steep  staircase  descends  into  the  rock.  As  w< 
were  groping  after  the  guide,  I  called  to  my  friend  to  *ake  care, 
as  there  was  but  a  single  step,  after  making  a  slip.  The  words 
were  scarcely  out  of  my  mouth  before  I  felt  a  tremendous 
thump,  followed  by  a  number  of  smaller  ones,  and  found  myself 
sitting  in  a  heap  of  sand,  at  the  bottom,  some  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  below.  Fortunately,  I  came  off  with  but  a  few  slight 
bruises. 

Returning  to  the  temple  of  Goorneh,  we  took  a  path  over 
the  plain,  through  fields  of  wheat,  lupins  and  lentils,  to  the  two 
colossi,  which  we  had  already  seen  from  a  distance.  These 
immense  sitting  figures,  fifty-three  feet  above  the  plain,  which 
has  buried  their  pedestals,  overlook  the  site  of  vanished 
Thebes  and  assert  the  grandeur  of  which  they  and  Karnak  arc 
the  most  striking  remains.  They  were  erected  by  Amuuoph 
III.,  and  though  the  faces  are  totally  disfigured,  the  full,  round, 
beautiful  proportions  of  the  colossal  arms,  shoulders  and  thighs 
do  not  belie  the  marvellous  sweetness  of  the  features  which  we 
still  see  in  his  tomb.  Except  the  head  of  Antinous,  I  know 
of  no  ancient  portrait  so  beautiful  as  Amunoph.  The  long  and 
luxuriant  hair,  flowing  in  a  hundred  ringlets,  the  soft  grace  of 
the  forehead,  the  mild  serenity  of  the  eye,  the  fine  thin  lines 
of  the  nostrils  and  the  feminine  tenderness  of  the  full  lips, 
triumph  over  the  cramped  rigidity  of  Egyptian  sculpture,  and 
charm  you  with  the  lightness  and  harmony  of  Greek  art.  in 
looking  on  that  head,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  subject 
overpowered  the  artist,  and  led  him  to  the  threshold  of  a  truer 
art.  Amunoph,  or  Memnon,  was  a  poet  in  soul,  and  it  was 
meet  that  his  statue  should  salute  the  rising  sun  with  a  sound 
like  that  of  a  harp-string. 


THE    MISIC    OF    MEMNON.  123 

Modern  research  has  wholly  annihilated  this  beautiful  fable, 
Meinnon  now  sounds  at  all  hours  of  the  day,  and  at  the  com 
mand  of  all  travellers  who  pay  an  Arab  five  piastres  to  climb 
into  his  lap.  We  engaged  a  vender  of  modern  scarabei,  who 
threw  ofl  his  garments,  hooked  his  fingers  and  toes  into  the 
cracks  of  the  polished  granite,  and  soon  hailed  us  with  "  Sa- 
laam !  "  from  the  knee  of  the  statue.  There  is  a  certain  stone 
on  Memnon's  lap,  which,  when  sharply  struck,  gives  out  a  clear 
metallic  ring.  Behind  it  is  a  small  square  aperture,  invisible 
from  below,  where  one  of  the  priests  no  doubt  stationed  him- 
self to  perform  the  daily  miracle.  Our  Arab  rapped  on  the 
arms  and  body  of  the  statue,  which  had  the  usual  dead  sound 
of  stone,  and  rendered  the  musical  ring  of  the  sun-smitten 
block  more  striking.  An  avenue  of  sphinxes  once  led  from  the 
colossi  to  a  grand  temple,  the  foundations  of  which  we  found 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant.  On  the  way  are  the  frag- 
ments of  two  other  colossi,  one  of  black  granite.  The  enor- 
mous substructions  of  the  temple  and  the  pedestals  of  its  col- 
umns have  been  sufficiently  excavated  to  show  what  a  superb 
edifice  has  been  lost  to  the  world.  A  crowd  of  troublesome 
Arabs,  thrusting  upon  our  attention  newly  baken  cinerary  urns, 
newly  roasted  antique  wheat,  and  images  of  all  kinds  fresh 
from  the  maker's  hand,  disturbed  our  quiet  examination  of  the 
ruins,  and  in  order  to  escape  their  importunities,  we  rode  tc 
the  Meinnonium. 

This  edifice,  the  temple-palace  of  Remeses  the  Great,  is 
supposed  to  be  the  Memnonium,  described  by  Strabo.  It  ia 
built  on  a  gentle  rise  of  land  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and 
looks  eastward  to  the  Nile  and  Luxor.  The  grand  stone  py- 
lon which  stands  at  the  entrance  of  its  former  avenue  of 


124  /OURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

sphinxes  has  been  half  levelled  by  the  fury  of  the  Persian  con- 
querors, and  the  colossal  granite  statue  of  Remeses,  in  the  first 
court  of  the  temple,  now  lies  in  enormous  fragments  around  itf 
pedestal.  Mere  dimensions  give  no  idea  of  this  immense 
mass,  the  weight  of  which,  when  entire,  was  nearly  nine  hun- 
dred tons.  How  poor  and  trifling  appear  the  modern  statues 
which  we  call  colossal,  when  measured  with  this,  one  of  whose 
toes  is  a  yard  in  length;  and  how  futile  the  appliances  of 
modern  art,  when  directed  to  its  transportation  for  a  distance 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  !  The  architrave  at  each  end 
of  the  court  was  upheld  by  four  caryatides,  thirty  feet  in  height. 
Though  much  defaced,  they  are  still  standing,  but  are  dwarfed 
by  the  mighty  limbs  of  Remeses.  It  is  difficult  to  account  for 
the  means  by  which  the  colossus  was  broken.  There  are  no 
marks  of  any  instruments  which  could  have  forced  such  a  mass 
asunder,  and  the  only  plausible  conjecture  I  have  heard  is, 
that  the  stone  must  have  been  subjected  to  an  intense  heat  and 
afterwards  to  the  action  of  water.  The  statue,  in  its  sitting 
position,  must  have  been  nearly  sixty  feet  in  height,  and  is  the 
largest  in  the  world,  though  not  so  high  as  the  rock-hewn 
monoliths  of  Aboo-Simbel.  The  Turks  and  Arabs .  have  cut 
several  mill-stones  out  of  its  head,  without  any  apparent  dimi- 
nution of  its  size. 

The  Memnonium  differs  from  the  other  temples  of  Egypt 
in  being  almost  faultless  in  its  symmetry,  even  when  measured 
by  the  strictest  rules  of  art.  I  know  of  nothing  so  exquisite 
as  the  central  colonnade  of  its  grand  hall — a  double  row  of 
pillars  forty-five  feet  in  height  and  twenty  three  in  circum- 
ference, crowned  with  capitals  resembling  the  bell- shaped  bios- 
eorns  of  the  lotus.  One  must  see  them  to  comprehend  hon 


THE    MEMNONTUM.  121 

this  simple  form,  whose  expression  is  all  sweetness  and  tender- 
ness in  the  flower,  softens  and  beautifies  the  solid  majesty  of 
the  shaft.  In  spite  of  their  colossal  proportions,  there  is 
nothing  massive  or  heavy  in  their  aspect.  The  cup  of  thfl 
capital  curves  gently  outward  from  the  abacus  on  which  the 
architrave  rests,  and  seems  the  natural  blossom  of  the  co- 
lumnar stem.  On  either  side  of  this  perfect  colonnade  are  four 
rows  of  Osiride  pillars,  of  smaller  size,  yet  the  variety  of  their 
form  and  proportions  only  enhances  the  harmony  of  the  whole. 
This  is  one  of  those  enigmas  in  architecture  which  puzzle  one 
on  his  first  acquaintance  with  Egyptian  temples,  and  which  he 
is  often  forced  blindly  to  accept  as  new  laws  of  art,  because  his 
feeling  tells  him  they  are  true,  and  his  reason  cannot  satisfac- 
torily demonstrate  that  they  are  false. 

We  waited  till  the  yellow  rays  of  sunset  fell  on  the  capi- 
tals of  the  Memnonium,  and  they  seemed,  like  the  lotus  flowers 
to  exhale  a  vapory  light,  before  we  rode  home.  All  night  we 
wandered  in  dreams  through  kingly  vaults,  with  starry  ceilings 
and  illuminated  walls ;  but  on  looking  out  of  our  windows  at 
dawn,  we  saw  the  red  saddle-cloths  of  our  horses  against  the 
dark  background  of  the  palm  grove,  as  they  came  down  to  the 
boat.  No  second  nap  was  possible,  after  such  a  sight,  and 
many  minutes  had  not  elapsed  before  we  were  tasting  the  cool 
morning  air  in  the  delight  of  a  race  up  and  down  the  shore. 
Our  old  guide,  however,  was  on  his  donkey  betimes,  and  called 
us  off  to  our  duty.  We  passed  Goorneh,  and  ascended  the 
eastern  face  of  the  mountain  to  the  tombs  of  the  priests  and 
private  citizens  of  Thebes.  For  miles  along  the  mountain 
side,  one  sees  nothing  but  heaps  of  sand  and  rubbish,  with 
nere  and  there  an  Arab  hut,  built  against  the  face  of  a  tomb 


126  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

whose  chambers  serve  as  pigeon  houses,  and  stalls  for  asses 
The  earth  is  filled  with  fragments  of  mummies,  and  the  ban- 
dages in  which  they  were  wrapped ;  for  even  the  sanctity  of 
death  itself,  is  here  neither  respected  by  the  Arabs  nor  th« 
Europeans  whom  they  imitate.  I  cannot  conceive  the  passion 
which  some  travellers  have,  of  carrying  away  withered  hands 
and  fleshless  legs,  and  disfiguring  the  abodes  of  the  dead  with 
their  insignificant  names.  1  should  as  soon  think  of  carving 
my  initials  on  the  back  of  a  live  Arab,  as  on  these  venerable 
monuments. 

The  first  tomb  we  entered  almost  cured  us  of  the  desire  to 
visit  another.  It  was  that  called  the  Assasseef,  built  by  a 
wealthy  priest,  and  it  is  the  largest  in  Thebes.  Its  outer 
court  measures  one  hundred  and  three  by  seventy-six  feet,  and 
its  passages  extend  between  eight  and  nine  hundred  feet  into 
the  mountain.  We  groped  our  way  between  walls  as  black  as 
ink,  through  long,  labyrinthine  suites  of  chambers,  breathing 
a  deathlike  and  oppressive  odor.  The  stairways  seemed  to 
lead  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  on  either  hand  yawned 
pits  of  uncertain  depth.  As  we  advanced,  the^ghostly  vaults 
rumbled  with  a  sound  like  thunder,  and  hundreds  of  noisome 
bats,  scared  by  the  light,  dashed  against  the  walls  and  dropped 
at  our  feet.  We  endured  this  for  a  little  while,  but  on  reach- 
ing the  entrance  to  some  darker  and  deeper  mystery,  were  so 
surrounded  by  the  animals,  who  struck  their  filthy  wings 
igainst  our  faces,  that  not  for  ten  kings'  tombs  would  we  have 
gone  a  step  further.  My  friend  was  on  the  point  of  vowing 
never  to  set  his  foot  in  another  tomb,  but  I  persuaded  him  tc 
wait  until  we  had  seen  that  of  Amunoph.  I  followed  the 
guide,  who  es  ticed  me  by  flattering  promises  into  a  great  many 


MEDEEVET    ABOU THE    PYLON.  127 

awkward  holes,  and  when  he  was  tired  with  crawling  in  the 
dust,  sent  one  of  our  water-carriers  in  advance,  who  dragged 
mo  in  and  out  by  the  heels. 

The  temple  of  Medeenet  Abou  is  almost  concealed  by  the 
ruins  of  a  Coptic  village,  among  which  it  stands,  and  by  which 
it  is  partially  buried.  The  out^r  court,  pylon  and  main  hall 
of  the  smaller  temple  rise  sbcvo  vhe  mounds  and  overlook  the 
plain  of  Thebes,  but  scarcely  satisfy  the  expectation  of  the 
traveller,  as  he  approaches.  You  firSi  enter  an  inclosure  sur- 
rounded by  a  low  stone  wall,  and  standing  in  advance  of  the 
pylon.  The  rear  wall,  facing  the  entrance,  contains  two  sin- 
gle  pillars,  with  bell-shaped  capitals,  which  tise  above  it  and 
stand  like  guards  before  the  doorway  of  the  pylon.  Here  was 
another  enigma  for  us.  Who  among  modem  architects  would 
dare  to  plant  two  single  pillars  before  a  pyramidal  gateway  of 
solid  masonry,  and  then  inclose  them  in  a  plain  wall,  rising  to 
half  their  height  ?  Yet  here  the  symmetry  of  the  shafts  is  not 
injured  by  the  wall  in  which  they  stand,  nor  oppressed  by  the 
ponderous  bulk  of  the  pylon.  On  the  contrary,  the  light  col- 
umns and  spreading  capitals,  like  a  tuft  of  wild  roses  hanging 
from  the  crevice  of  a  rock,  brighten  the  rude  strength  of  the 
masses  of  stone  with  a  gleam  of  singular  loveliness.  What 
would  otherwise  only  impress  you  by  its  size,  now  endears  it- 
self to  you  by  its  beauty  Is  this  the  effect  of  chance,  or  the 
result  of  a  finer  art  than  that  which  nourishes  in  our  day  ?  I 
will  not  pretend  to  determine,  but  I  must  confess  that  Egypt, 
in  whose  ruins  I  had  expected  to  find  only  a  sort  of  barbaric 
grandeur,  has  given  me  a  new  insight  into  that  vital  Beauty 
which  is  the  soul  of  true  Art. 

We  devoted  little  time  to  the  ruined  court  and  sanctuariei 


128  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

which  follow  the  pylon,  and  to  the  lodges  of  the  main  temple 
standing  beside  them  like  watch-towers,  three  stories  in  height* 
The  majestic  pylon  of  the  great  temple  of  Remeses  III.  rose 
behind  them,  out  of  heaps  of  pottery  and  unburnt  brickSj  and 
the  colossal  figure  of  the  monarch  in  his  car,  borne  by  two 
horses  into  the  midst  of  the  routed  enemy,  attracted  us  from  a 
distance.  We  followed  the  exterior  wall  of  the  temple,  for  its 
whole  length  of  more  than  six  hundred  feet,  reading  the  sculp- 
tured history  of  his  conquests.  The  entire  outer  wall  of  the 
temple  presents  a  series  of  gigantic  cartoons,  cut  in  the  blocks 
'of  sandstone,  of  which  it  is  built.  Remeses  is  always  the  cen- 
tral figure,  distinguished  from  subjects  and  foes  no  less  by  his 
superior  stature  than  by  the  royal  emblems  which  accompany 
him.  Here  we  see  heralds  sounding  the  trumpet  in  advance  of 
his  car,  while  his  troops  pass  in  review  before  him ;  there,  with 
a  lion  walking  by  his  side,  lie  sets  out  on  his  work  of  con- 
quest. His  soldiers  storm  a  town,  and  we  see  them  climb- 
ing the  wall  with  ladders,  while  a  desperate  hand-to-hand 
conflict  is  going  on  below.  In  another  place,  he  has  alighted 
from  his  chariot  and  stands  with  his  foot  on  the  neck  of  a 
slaughtered  king.  Again,  his  vessels  attack  a  hostile  navy 
on  the  sea.  One  of  the  foreign  craft  becomes  entangled 
and  is  capsized,  yet  while  his  spearmen  hurl  their  weapons 
among  the  dismayed  enemy,  the  sailors  rescue  those  who 
are  struggling  in  the  flood.  After  we  have  passed  through 
these  strange  and  stirring  pictures,  we  find  the  monarch  re- 
posing on  his  throne,  while  his  soldiers  deposit  before  him 
the  hands  oj"  the  slaughtered,  and  his  scribes  present  to  him 
lists  of  their  numbers,  and  his  generals  lead  to  him  long 
processions  of  fettered  captives.  Again,  lie  is  represented 
as  offering  a  group  of  subject  kings  to  Amun,  the  The- 


THH    INNER    COURT.  129 

ban  Jupiter,  who  says  to  him  :  "  Go,  my  cherished  and  chosen 
make  war  on  foreign  nations,  besiege  their  forts  and  carry  ofl 
their  people  to  live  as  captives."  On  the  front  wall,  he  holds 
in  his  grasp  the  hands  of  a  dozen  monarchs,  while  with  the 
other  hand  he  raises  his  sword  to  destroy  them.  Their  faces 
express  the  very  extreme  of  grief  and  misery,  but  he  is  cold 
and  calm  as  Fate  itself. 

We  slid  down  the  piles  of  sand  and  entered  by  a  side-door 
into  the  grand  hall  of  the  temple.  Here,  as  at  Dendera,  a  sur- 
prise awaited  us.  We  stood  on  the  pavement  of  a  magnificent 
court,  about  one  hundred  and  thirty  feet  square,  around  which 
ran  a  colonnade  of  pillars,  eight  feet  square  and  forty  feet  high. 
On  the  western  side  is  an  inner  row  of  circular  columns,  twen- 
ty-four feet  in  circumference,  with  capitals  representing  the 
papyrus  blossom.  The  entire  court,  with  its  walls,  pillars  and 
doorways,  is  covered  with  splendid  sculptures  and  traces  of 
paint,  and  the  ceiling  is  blue  as  the  noonday  sky,  and  studded 
with  stars.  Against  each  of  the  square  columns  facing  the 
court  once  stood  a  colossal  caryatid,  upholding  the  architrave 
of  another  colonnade  of  granite  shafts,  nearly  all  of  which 
have  been  thrown  from  their  bases  and  lie  shivered  on  the 
pavement.  This  court  opens  towards  the  pylon  into  another 
of  similar  dimensions,  but  buried  almost  to  the  capitals  of 
its  columns  in  heaps  of  rubbish.  The  character  of  the 
temple  is  totally  different  from  that  of  every  other  in  Egypt. 
Its  heijrht  is  small  in  proportion  to  its  great  extent,  and  it 
therefore  loses  the  airy  lightness  of  the  Memnonium  and 
the  impressive  grandeur  of  Dendera.  Its  expression  is 
that  of  a  massive  magnificence,  if  I  may  use  such  a  doubtful 

compound:  no  single  epithet  suffices  to  describe  it. 
6* 


130  JOURNEY  TO  CI:NTI;AI.  AFRICA. 

With  Medeenet  Abou  finished  our  survey  of  the  western 
division  of  Thebes — two  long  days  of  such  experience  as 
the  contemplation  of  a  lifetime  cannot  exhaust.  At  sun- 
set we  took  advantage  of  the  wind,  parted  from  our  grooms 
and  water-carriers,  who  wished  to  accompany  me  to  Khar- 
toum, and  crossed  the  Nile  to  Luxor. 


THE    DANCING    GIRLS    OF    EGTPV,  131 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE   ALMEH8,   LUXOR   AND   KABNAK, 

The  Dancing  Glrla  of  Egypt— A  Night  Scene  In  Luxor— The  Orange-Blossom  and  th< 
Apple-Blossom— The  Beautiful  Beruba— The  Dance— Performance  of  the  A|iplt 
Blossom- -The  Temple  of  Lnxor — A  Mohammedan  School — Gallop  to  Karnak— 
View  ol  the  Ruins— The  Great  Hall  of  Pillars— Bedouin  Diversions— A  Night 
Elde— Karnak  under  the  Full  Moon — Farewell  to  Thebes. 

Two  days  in  the  tombs  of  the  Kings  and  the  temples  of  the 
Remesides  and  the  Osirei  exhausted  us  more  thoroughly  than 
a  week  of  hard  labor.  In  addition  to  the  natural  and  exciting 
emotion,  with  which  we  contemplated  those  remains,  and  which 
we  would  not  have  repressed,  if  we  could,  we  puzzled  ourselves 
with  the  secrets  of  Egyptian  architecture  and  the  mysteries  of 
Egyptian  faith.  Those  pregnant  days  were  followed  by  sleep- 
less nights,  and  we  reached  Luxor  at  sunset  with  a  certain 
dread  of  the  morrow.  Our  mental  nerves  were  too  tensely 
strung,  and  we  felt  severely  the  want  of  some  relaxation  of  an 
opposite  character.  The  course  which  we  adopted  to  freshen 
our  minds  for  Karnak  may  strike  a  novice  as  singular,  but  it 
was  most  effectual,  and  can  be  explained  on  the  truest  philo- 
sophical principles. 

In  the  afternoon  Achmet  had  informed  us  that  two  of  the 
celebrated  Almehs.  or  dancing-women  of  the  East,  who  had 


132  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFftlCA. 

been  banished  to  Esneh,  were  in  Luxor,  and  recommended  us 
to  witness  their  performance.  This  was  a  welcome  proposition, 
and  the  matter  was  soon  arranged.  Our  rais  procured  a  large 
room,  had  it  cleared,  engaged  the  performers  and  musiciana 
and  took  the  cushions  of  our  cabin  to  make  us  a  stately  seat 
If  one  should  engage  Castle  Garden,  and  hire  a  company  of 
ballet  dancers  to  perform  for  his  special  amusement,  the  fact 
would  shake  the  pillars  of  New-York  society,  and  as  it  was,  1 
can  think  of  some  very  good  friends  who  will  condemn  our 
proceeding  as  indiscreet,  and  unworthy  the  serious  aims  of 
travel.  As  I  have  no  apology  to  make  to  myself,  I  need  make 
none  to  them,  except  to  suggest  that  the  first  end  of  travel  is 
instruction,  and  that  the  traveller  is  fully  justified  in  pursuing 
this  end,  so  long  as  he  neither  injures  himself  nor  others. 

About  eight  o'clock,  accompanied  by  Achmet,  our  Thehan 
guide,  the  rais  of  our  vessel,  and  our  favorite  sailor,  Ali,  we  set 
out  for  the  rendezvous.  Ali  was  the  most  gentleman-like  Fellah 
I  ever  saw.  His  appearance  was  always  neat  and  orderly,  but 
on  this  particular  evening  his  white  turban  was  sprucer  than 
ever,  and  his  blue  mantle  hung  as  gracefully  on  his  shoulders  as 
the  cloak  of  a  Spanish  grandee.  He  followed  behind  us,  re- 
joicingly bearing  the  shebooks,  as  we  walked  under  the  moonlit 
columns  of  Luxor.  We  passed  around  the  corner  of  the  temple 
and  ascended  a  flight  of  stone  steps,  to  one  of  the  upper  cham- 
bers It  was  a  room  about  thirty  feet  long  by  fifteen  wide, 
with  a  roof  of  palm-logs,  covered  with  thatch.  The  floor  rest- 
ed on  the  ceiling  of  the  ancient  sanctuary.  Our  boat-lanterns 
of  oiled  paper  were  already  suspended  from  the  roof,  and  a  few 
candles,  stuck  in  empty  bottles,  completed  the  illumination. 

We  were  politely  received  and  conducted  to  the  divan. 


A   NIGHT-SCENE    IN    LUXOR.  133 

formed  impromptu  of  a  large  cafass,  or  hen-coop,  covered  with 
a  carpet  and  cushions.  We  seated  ourselves  upon  it,  with  legs 
crossed  Moslem-wise,  while  our  attendants  ranged  themselves 
on  the  floor  on  the  left,  and  Ali  stood  on  the  right,  ready  to 
replenish  the  pipes.  Opposite  to  us  sat  the  two  Almehs,  with 
four  attendant  dancers,  and  three  female  singers,  and  beside 
them  the  music,  consisting  of  two  drums,  a  tambourine,  and  a 
squeaking  Arab  violin.  Our  crew,  shining  in  white  turbans, 
were  ranged  near  the  door,  with  a  number  of  invited  guests, 
so  that  the  whole  company  amounted  to  upwards  of  forty  per- 
sons. On  our  entrance  the  Almehs  rose,  came  forward  and 
greeted  us,  touching  our  hands  to  the  lips  and  forehead.  They 
then  sat  down,  drank  each  a  small  glass  of  arakee,  and  while 
the  drum  thumped  and  the  violin  drawled  a  monotonous  pre- 
lude to  the  dance,  we  had  leisure  to  scrutinize  their  dress  and 
features. 

The  two  famed  danseuses  bore  Arabic  names,  which  were 
translated  to  us  as  the  Orange-Blossom  and  the  Apple-Blos- 
som. The  first  was  of  medium  size,  with  an  olive  complexion, 
and  regular,  though  not  handsome  features.  She  wore  a  white 
dress,  fitting  like  a  vest  from  the  shoulders  to  the  hips,  with 
short,  flowing  sleeves,  under  which  a  fine  blue  gauze,  confined 
at  the  wrist  with  bracelets,  hung  like  a  mist  about  her  arms. 
Her  head-dress  was  a  small  red  cap,  with  a  coronet  of  gold 
coins,  under  which  her  black  hair  escaped  in  two  shining  braids 
The  Apple-Blossom,  who  could  not  have  been  more  than  fifteen 
years  old,  was  small  and  slightly  formed,  dark-skinned,  and 
might  have  been  called  beautiful,  but  for  a  defect  in  one  of  her 
•yes.  Her  dress  was  of  dark  crimson  gilk,  with  trowsers  aud 
armlets  of  white  gauze,  and  a  red  cap,  so  covered  with  coin? 


134  JOURNEY    TO    CKNTHAL    AFRICA. 

that  it  nearly  resembled  a  helmet  of  golden  scales,  with  a 
fringe  falling  on  each  side  of  her  face.  Three  of  the  other 
assistants  were  dressed  in  white,  with  shawls  of  brilliant  pat- 
terns bound  around  the  waist.  The  fourth  was  a  Nubian  slave, 
named  Zakhfara,  whose  shining  black  face  looked  wonderfully  I 
picturesque  under  the  scarlet  mantle  which  enveloped  it  like  a 
turban,  and  fell  in  long  folds  almost  to  her  feet.  Among  the 
singers  was  one  named  Bemba,  who  was  almost  the  only  really 
beautiful  Egyptian  woman  I  ever  saw.  Her  features  were 
large,  but  perfectly  regular ;  and  her  long,  thick,  silky  hair 
hung  loose  nearly  to  her  shoulders  before  its  gleaming  mass 
was  gathered  into  braids.  Her  teeth  were  even,  and  white  as 
pearls,  and  the  lids  of  her  large  black  eyes  were  stained  with 
kohl,  which  gave  them  a  languishing,  melancholy  expression. 
She  was  a  most  consummate  actress ;  for  she  no  sooner  saw 
that  we  noticed  her  face  than  she  assumed  the  most  indifferent 
air  in  the  world  and  did  not  look  at  us  again.  But  during  the 
whole  evening  every  movement  was  studied.  The  shawl  was 
disposed  in  more  graceful  folds  about  her  head  ;  the  hair  was 
tossed  back  from  her  sho  ilders ;  the  hand,  tinged  with  henna, 
held  the  jasmine  tube  of  her  pipe  in  a  hundred  different  atti- 
tudes, and  only  on  leaving  did  she  lift  her  eyes  as  if  first  aware 
of  our  presence  and  wish  us  "  buona  sera " — the  only  Italian 
words  she  knew — with  the  most  musical  accent  of  which  an 
Arab  voice  is  capable. 

Meanwhile,  the  voices  of  the  women  mingled  with  the 
shrill,  barbaric  tones  of  the  violin,  and  the  prelude  passed  into 
a  measured  song  of  long,  unvarying  cadences,  which  the  drums 
and  tambourine  accompanied  with  rapid  beats.  The  0  range- 
Blossom  and  one  of  her  companions  took  the  floor,  after  drink- 


THE    DANCE.  185 

ing  another  glass  of  arakee  and  tigatening  the  shawls  around 
their  hips  The  dance  commenced  with  a  slow  movement, 
both  hands  being  lifted  above  the  head,  while  the  jingling  bits 
of  metal  on  their  shawls  and  two  miniature  cymbals  of  brass, 
fastened  to  the  thumb  and  middle  finger,  kept  time  to  the  mu- 
sic. As  the  dancers  became  animated,  their  motions  were 
more  rapid  and  violent,  and  the  measure  was  marked,  not  in 
pirouettes  and  flying  bounds,  as  on  the  boards  of  Frank  thea- 
tres, but  by  a  most  wonderful  command  over  the  muscles  of 
the  chest  and  limbs.  Their  frames  vibrated  with  the  music 
like  the  strings  of  the  violin,  and  as  the  song  grew  wild  and 
stormy  towards  its  close,  the  movements,  had  they  not  accord- 
ed with  it,  would  have  resembled  those  of  a  person  seized  with 
some  violent  nervous  spasm.  'After  this  had  continued  for  an 
incredible  length  of  time,  and  I  expected  to  see  the  Almehs 
fall  exhausted  to  the  earth,  the  music  ceased,  and  they  stood 
before  us  calm  and  cold,  with  their  breathing  not  perceptibly 
hurried.  The  dance  had  a  second  part,  of  very  different  char- 
acter. Still  with  their  lifted  hands  striking  the  little  cym- 
bals, they  marked  a  circle  of  springing  bounds,  in  which  their 
figures  occasionally  reminded  me  of  the  dancing  nymphs  of 
Greek  sculpture.  The  instant  before  touching  the  floor,  as 
they  hung  in  the  air  with  the  head  bent  forward,  one  foot 
thrown  behind,  and  both  arms  extended  above  the  head,. they 
were  drawn  OP  the  background  of  the  dark  hall,  like  forma 
taken  from  the  frieze  of  a  temple  to  Bacchus  or  Pan. 

Eastern  politeness  did  not  require  us  to  cry  "  brava  1 "  01 
"  encore  1 "  so  we  merely  handed  our  pipes  to  Ali,  to  be  filled 
a  second  time.  Old  Achmet  Gourgar,  our  Theban  guide, 
Vowever,  was  so  enraptured  that  he  several  times  ejaculated; 


136  JOURNEY    TO    CKNTi;"     AFRICA. 

"  iaib  keteer  /"  (very  good  indeed  !)  and  Rais  Hassan's  dark 
lace  beamed  all  over  with  delight.  The  circle  of  white  tur- 
Darted  heads  in  the  rear  looked  on  complacently,  and  our  guard 
who  stood  in  the  moonlight  before  the  open  door,  almost  forgo* 
his  duty  in  his  enjoyment  of  the  spectacle.  I  shall  never  for 
get  the  wild,  fantastic  picture  we  saw  that  night  in  the  ruins 
of  Luxor. 

The  Apple-Blossom,  who  followed  in  a  dance  with  one 
named  Bakhita,  pleased  me  far  better.  She  added  a  thousand 
graceful  embellishments  to  the  monotonous  soul  of  the  music ; 
and  her  dance,  if  barbaric,  was  as  poetic  as  her  native  palm- 
tree.  She  was  lithe  as  a  serpent,  and  agile  as  a  young  pan- 
ther, and  some  of  her  movements  were  most  extraordinary,  in 
the  nerve  and  daring  required*  to  execute  them,  and  to  intro- 
duce them  without  neglecting  the  rhythm  of  the  dance.  More 
than  once  she  sank  slowly  back,  bending  her  knees  forward,  till 
her  head  and  shoulders  touched  the  floor,  and  then,  quick  as  a 
flash,  shot  flying  into  the  air,  her  foot  alighting  in  exact  time 
with  the  thump  of  the  drum.  She  had  the  power  of  moving 
her  body  from  side  to  side,  so  that  it  curved  like  a  snake  from 
the  hips  to  the  shoulders,  and  once  I  thought  that,  like  Lamia, 
she  was  about  to  resume  her  ancient  shape,  and  slip  out  of 
sight  through  some  hole  in  the  ruined  walls.  One  of  the 
dances  was  a  sort  of  pantomime,  which  she  and  Bakhita  accom- 
panied with  their  voices — clear,  shrill,  ringing  tones,  which 
never  faltered  for  a  moment,  or  varied  a  hair's  breadth  from 
the  melody,  while  every  muscle  was  agitated  with  the  exer- 
tion of  her  movements.  The  song  was  pervaded  with  a 
Btrange,  passionate  tremolo,  unlike  any  thing  I  ever  heard  be- 
fore. The  burden  was :  "I  am  alone ;  my  family  and  mj 


THE    APPLE-BLOSSOM.  137 


friends  are  all  dead  ;  the  plague  has  destroyed  them. 
then,  to  me,  and  be  my  beloved,  for  I  have  no  other  to  lovfl 
me."  Her  gestures  exhibited  a  singular  mixture  of  the  aban- 
donment of  grief,  and  the  longing  of  love.  While  her  body 
swayed  to  and  fro  with  the  wild,  sad  rhythm  of"  the  words,  she 
raised  both  arms  before  her  till  the  long  sleeves  fell  back  and 
covered  her  face  :  then  opening  them  in  wistful  entreaty,  sang 
the  last  line  of  the  chorus,  and  bringing  her  hands  to  her  fore- 
head, relapsed  into  grief  again.  Apparently  the  prayer  is  an- 
swered, for  the  concluding  movement  expressed  a  delirious  joy. 

We  listened  to  the  music  and  looked  on  the  dances  for 
more  than  two  hours,  but  at  length  the  twanging  of  the  violin 
and  the  never-ending  drum-thumps  began  to  set  our  teeth  on 
edge,  and  we  unfolded  our  crarflped  legs  and  got  down  from 
the  divan.  The  lantern  was  unswung,  the  candle-ends  taken 
from  the  empty  bottles,  the  Almehs  received  their  fees  and 
went  off  rejoicing,  and  we  left  the  chambers  of  Luxor  to  the 
night-wind  and  the  moon. 

The  guide  of  the  Eastern  bank,  a  wiry  young  Bedouin, 
was  in  attendance  next  morning,  and  a  crowd  of  horses  and 
asses  awaited  us  on  the  shore.  I  chose  a  brown  mare,  with  a 
small,  slender  head  and  keen  eye,  and  soon  accustomed  myself 
to  the  Turkish  saddle  and  broad  shovel-stirrups.  The  temple 
of  Luxor  is  imbedded  in  the  modern  village,  and  only  the 
front  of  the  pylon,  facing  towards  Karnak,  and  part  of  the 
grand  central  colonnade,  is  free  from  its  vile  excrescences. 
For  this  reason  its  effect  is  less  agreeable  than  that  of  the 
Memnonium,  although  of  much  grander  proportions.  Its  plan 
IB  easily  traced,  nevertheless,  and  having  been  built  by  only 
two  monarchs,  Reme&es  the  Great  and  Amunoph  III.  —  or,  U 


138  JOURNEY    TO    C KNTKAL    AFRICA 

use  their  more  familiar  titles,  Sesostris  and  Memnon —  ic  is 
less  bewildering,  in  a  historical  point  of  view,  to  the  unstudied 
tourist,  than  most  of  the  other  temples  of  Egypt.  The  sanc- 
tuary, which  stands  nearest  the  Nile,  is  still  protected  hy  the 
ancient  stone  quay,  though  the  river  has  made  rapid  advances , 
and  threatens  finally  to  undermine  Luxor  as  it  has  already  un- 
dermined the  temples  of  Antaeopolis  and  Antinoe.  I  rode  into 
what  were  once  the  sacred  chambers,  but  the  pillars  and  sculp- 
tures were  covered  with  filth,  and  the  Arabs  had  built  in 
around  and  upon  them,  like  the  clay  nests  of  the  cliff-sparrow 
The  peristyle  of  majestic  Osiride  pillars,  in  front  of  the  por- 
tico, as  well  as  the  portico  itself,  are  buried  to  half  their  depth, 
and  so  surrounded  by  hovels,  that  to  get  an  idea  of  their  ar- 
rangement you  must  make  the  tour  of  a  number  of  hen-housos 
and  asses'  stalls.  The  pillars  are  now  employed  as  drying- 
posts  for  the  buffalo  dung  which  the  Arabs  use  as  fuel. 

Proceeding  towards  the  entrance,  the  next  court,  which  is 
tolerably  free  from  incumbrances,  contains  a  colonnade  of  two 
rows  of  lotus-crowned  columns,  twenty-eight  feet  in  circum- 
ference. They  still  uphold  their  architraves  of  giant  blocks 
of  sandstone,  and  rising  high  above  the  miserable  dwellings  of 
the  village,  are  visible  from  every  part  of  the  plain  of  Thebes. 
The  English  Vice-Consul,  Mustapha  Agha,  occupies  a  house 
between  two  of  these  pillars.  We  returned  the  visit  he  had 
paid  us  on  our  arrival,  and  were  regaled  with  the  everlasting 
coffee  and  shebook,  than  which  there  is  no  more  grateful  re 
freshmen t.  He  gave  us  the  agreeable  news  that  Mr.  Murray 
was  endeavoring  to  persuade  the  Pasha  to  have  Karnak  cleared 
of  its  rubbish  and  preserved  from  further  spoliation.  If  I  pos- 
sessed despotic  power — and  I  then  wished  it  for  the  first  timt 


AN    EGYPTIAN    SCHOOL.  139 

—I  should  certainly  make  despotic  use  of  it,  in  tearing  dowr 
gome  dozens  of  villages  and  setting  some  thousands  of  Copts 
and  Fellahs  at  work  in  exhuming  what  thoir  ancestors  havt 
mutilated  and  buried.  The  world  cannot  spare  these  remaina 
Tear  down  Roman  ruins  if  you  will ;  level  Cyclopean  walls 
build  bridges  with  the  stones  of  Gothic  abbeys  and  feudal  for- 
tresses ;  but  lay  no  hand  on  the  glory  and  grandeur  of  Egypt 

In  order  to  ascend  the  great  pylon  of  the  temple,  we  were 
obliged  to  pass  through  a  school,  in  which  thirty  or  forty  little 
Luxorians  were  conning  their  scraps  of  the  Koran.  They  im- 
mediately surrounded  us,  holding  up  their  tin  slates,  scribbled 
with  Arabic  characters,  for  our  inspection,  and  demanded  back- 
sheesh  for  their  proficiency  The  gray-bearded  pedagogue  tried 
to  quiet  them,  but  could  not  prevent  several  from  following 
us.  The  victories  of  Remeses  are  sculptured  on  the  face  of 
the  towers  of  the  pylon,  but  his  colossi,  solid  figures  of  granite, 
which  sit  on  either  side  of  the  entrance,  have  been  much  de- 
faced. The  lonely  obelisk,  which  stands  a  little  in  advance, 
on  the  left  hand,  is  more  perfect  than  its  Parisian  mate.  From 
this  stately  entrance,  an  avenue  of  colossal  sphinxes  once  ex- 
tended to  the  Ptolemaic  pylon  of  Karnak,  a  distance  of  a  mile 
and  a  half.  The  sphinxes  have  disappeared,  but  the  modern 
Arab  road  leads  over  its  site,  through  fields  of  waste  grass. 

And  now  we  galloped  forward,  through  a  long  procession 
of  camels,  donkeys,  and  Desert  Arabs  armed  with  spears 
towards  Karnak,  the  greatest  ruin  in  the  world,  the  crowning 
triumph  of  Egyptian  power  and  Egyptian  art.  Except  a 
broken  stone  here  and  there  protruding  through  the  soil,  the 
plain  is  as  desolate  as  if  it  had  never  been  conscious  of  a 
human  dwelling,  and  only  on  reaching  the  vicinity  of  the  mud 


140  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

hamlet  of  Karnak,  can  the  traveller  realize  that  he  ts  in  Thebes. 
Here  the  camel-path  drops  into  a  broad  excavated  avenue, 
lined  with  fragments  of  sphinxes  and  shaded  by  starveling 
acacias.  A.S  you  advance,  the  sphinxes  are  better  preserved 
and  remain  seated  on  their  pedestals,  but  they  have  all  been 
decapitated.  Though  of  colossal  proportions,  they  are  seated 
so  close  to  each  other,  that  it  must  have  required  nearly  two 
thousand  to  form  the  double  row  to  Luxor.  The  avenue  final- 
ly reaches  a  single  pylon,  of  majestic  proportions,  built  by  one 
of  the  Ptolemies,  and  covered  with  profuse  hieroglyphics. 
Passing  through  this,  the  sphinxes  lead  you  to  another  pylon, 
followed  by  a  pillared  court  and  a  temple  built  by  the  later 
Remesides.  This,  I  thought,  while  my  friend  was  measuring 
the  girth  of  the  pillars,  is  a  good  beginning  for  Karnak,  but  it 
is  certainly  much  less  than  I  expect.  "  Taal  min  liennee!  " 
(come  this  way !)  called  the  guide,  as  if  reading  my  mind,  and 
led  me  up  the  Keaps  of  rubbish  to  the  roof  and  pointed  to  the 
north. 

Ah,  there  was  Karnak  !  Had  I  been  blind  up  to  this  time, 
3r  had  the  earth  suddenly  heaved  out  of  her  breast  the  remains 
of  the  glorious  temple  ?  From  all  parts  of  the  plain  of  Thebes 
I  had  seen  it  in  the  distance — a  huge  propylon,  a  shattered 
portico,  and  an  obelisk,  rising  above  the  palms.  Whence  this 
wilderness  of  ruins,  spreading  so  far  as  to  seem  a  city  rather 
than  a  temple — pylon  after  pylon,  tumbling  into  enormous 
cubes  of  stone,  long  colonnades,  supporting  fragments  of  Titan- 
ic roofs,  obelisks  of  red  granite,  and  endless  walls  and  avenues, 
branching  out  to  isolated  portals  ?  Yet  they  stood  as  silentlj 
(»mid  the  accumulated  rubbish  of  nearly  four  thousand  years 
and  the  sunshine  threw  its  yellow  lustre  as  serenely  over  the 


KAUNAK.  141 

despoiled  sanctuaries,  as  if  it  had  never  been  otherwise,  since 
the  world  began.  Figures  are  of  110  use,  in  describing  a  place 
like  this,  but  since  I  must  use  them,  I  may  say  that  the  length 
of  the  ruins  before  us,  from  west  to  east,  was  twelve  hundred 
feet,  and  that  the  total  circumference  of  Karnak,  including  its 
Quraerous  pylae,  or  gateways,  is  a  mile  and  a  half. 

We  mounted  and  rode  with  fast-beating  hearts  to  the  west- 
ern or  main  entrance,  facing  the  Nile.  The  two  towers  of  the 
propylon — pyramidal  masses  of  solid  stone — are  three  hundred 
arid  twenty-nine  feet  in  length,  and  the  one  which  is  least  ruined, 
is  nearly  one  hundred  feet  in  height.  On  each  side  of  the  sculp- 
tured portal  connecting  them,  is  a  tablet  left  by  the  French 
army,  recording  the  geographical  position  of  the  principal 
Egyptian  temples.  We  passed  through  and  entered  an  open 
court,  more  than  three  hundred  feet  square,  with  a  corridor  of 
immense  pillars  on  each  side,  connecting  it  with  the  towers  of 
a  second  pylon,  nearly  as  gigantic  as  the  first.  A  colonnade 
of  lofty  shafts,  leading  through  the  centre  of  the  court,  once 
united  the  two  entrances,  but  they  have  all  been  hurled  down 
and  lay  as  they  fell,  in  long  lines  of  disjointed  blocks,  except 
one,  which  holds  its  solitary  lotus-bell  against  the  sky.  Two 
mutilated  colossi  of  red  granite  still  guard  the  doorway,  whose 
lintel-stones  are  forty  feet  in  length.  Climbing  over  the  huge 
fragments  which  have  fallen  from  above  and  almost  blocked  up 
the  passage,  we  looked  down  into  the  grand  hall  of  the  temple. 

I  knew  the  dimensions  of  this  hall,  beforehand ;  I  knew  the 
nural»er  and  size  of  the  pillars,  but  I  was  no  more  prepared  for 
the  reality  than  those  will  be,  who  may  read  this  account  of  it 
and  afterwards  visit  Karnak  for  themselves.  It  is  the  great 
good-luck  of  travel  that  many  things  must  be  seen  to  be  kuowu 


142  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Nothing  could  have  compensated  for  the  loss  of  that  oveiv 
whelming  confusion  of  awe,  astonishment,  and  delight,  which 
came  upon  me  like  a  flood.  I  looked  down  an  avenue  of  twelve 
pillars — six  on  each  side — each  of  which  was  thirty-six  feet  in 
circumference  and  nearly  eighty  feet  in  height.  Crushing  as 
were  these  ponderous  masses  of  sculptured  stone,  the  spreading 
bell  of  the  lotus-blossoms  which  crowned  them,  clothed  them 
with  an  atmosphere  of  lightness  and  grace.  In  front,  over  the 
top  of  another  pile  of  colossal  blocks,  two  obelisks  rose  sharp 
and  clear,  with  every  emblem  legible  on  their  polished  sides, 
On  each  side  of  the  main  aisle  are  seven  other  rows  of  columns 
— one  hundred  and  twenty-two,  in  all — each  of  which  is  about 
fifty  feet  high  and  twenty-seven  in  circumference.  They  have 
the  Osiride  form,  without  capitals,  and  do  not  range  with  the 
central  shafts.  In  the  efforts  of  the  conquerors  to  overthrow 
them,  two  have  been  hurled  from  their  places  and  thrown 
against  the  neighboring  ones,  where  they  still  lean,  as  if  weary 
with  holding  up  the  roof  of  massive  sandstone.  I  walked  alone 
through  this  hall,  trying  to  bear  the  weight  of  its  unutterable 
majesty  and  beauty.  That  I  had  been  so  oppressed  by  Den- 
dera,  seemed  a  weakness  which  I  was  resolved  to  conquer,  and 
I  finally  succeeded  in  looking  on  Karuak  with  a  calmness  more 
commensurate  with  its  sublime  repose — but  not  by  daylight. 

My  ride  back  to  Luxor,  towards  evening,  was  the  next 
best  thing  after  Karuak.  The  little  animal  I  rode  had  become 
excited  by  jumping  over  stones  and  sliding  down  sand-heaps  • 
Dnr  guide  began  to  show  his  Bedouin  blood  by  dashing  at  fid. 
gallop  toward  the  pylons  and  reining  in  his  horse  at  a  bound, 
and,  to  conclude,  I  became  infected  with  a  lawless  spirit  that 
oould  not  easily  be  laid.  The  guide's  eyes  sparkled  when  ] 


BEDOUIN    DIVERSIONS.  143 

proposed  a  race.  We  left  my  friend  and  the  water-car riers, 
bounded  across  the  avenue  of  sphinxes,  and  took  a  smooth  path 
leading  toward  the  Desert.  My  mare  needed  but  a  word  and 
a  jog  of  the  iron  stirrup.  Away  we  flew,  our  animals  stretch- 
ing themselves  for  a  long  heat,  crasuing  the  dry  dourra-stalks, 
clearing  the  water-ditches,  and  scattering  on  all  sides  the  Arab 
laborers  we  met.  After  a  glorious  gallop  of  two  or  three  miles 
my  antagonist  was  fairly  distanced  ;  but  one  race  would  not 
content  him,  so  we  had  a  second,  and  finally  a  third,  on  the 
beach  of  Luxor.  The  horses  belonged  to  him,  and  it  was  a 
matter  of  indifference  which  was  the  swiftest ;  he  raced  mere- 
ly for  the  delight  of  it,  and  so  did  I. 

The  same  gallant  mare  was  ready  for  me  at  night.  It  was 
precisely  full  moon,  and  I  had  determined  on  visiting  Karnak 
again  before  leaving.  There  was  no  one  but  the  guide  and  I, 
he  armed  with  his  long  spear,  and  I  with  my  pistols  in  my 
belt.  There  was  a  wan  haze  in  the  air,  and  a  pale  halo  around 
the  moon,  on  each  side  of  which  appeared  two  faint  mock- 
moons.  It  was  a  ghostly  light,  and  the  fresh  north-wind, 
coming  up  the  Nile,  rustled  solemnly  in  the  palm-trees.  We 
trotted  silently  to  Karnak,  and  leaped  our  horses  over  the  frag- 
ments until  we  reached  the  foot  of  the  first  obelisk.  Here  we 
dismounted  and  entered  the  grand  hall  of  pillars.  There  was  no 
Bound  in  all  the  temple,  and  the  guide,  who  seemed  to  compre- 
hend my  wish,  moved  behind  me  as  softly  as  a  shadow,  and 
spoke  not  a  word.  It  needs  this  illumination  to  comprehend 
Kamak,  The  unsightly  rubbish  has  disappeared :  the  rents  in 
the  roof  are  atoned  for  by  the  moonlight  they  admit;  the  frag- 
ments shivered  from  the  lips  of  the  mighty  capitals  are  onlj 
the  crumpled  edges  of  the  flower ;  a  maze  of  shadows  hides  the 


144  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

desolation  of  the  courts,  but  every  pillar  aiid  obelisk,  pylon  and 
propylon  is  glorified  by  the  moonlight.  The  soul  of  Karnak 
is  soothed  and  tranquillized.  Its  halls  look  upon  you  no  longer 
with  an  aspect  of  pain  and  humiliation.  Every  stone  seems  to 
say :  "  I  am  not  fallen,  for  I  have  defied  the  ages.  I  am  a 
part  of  that  grandeur  which  has  never  seen  its  peer,  and  I  shall 
endure  for  ever,  for  the  world  has  need  of  me." 

I  climbed  to  the  roof,  and  sat  looking  down  into  tht 
hushed  and  awful  colonnades,  till  I  was  thoroughly  penetrated 
with  their  august  and  sublime  expression.  I  should  probably 
have  remained  all  night,  an  amateur  colossus,  with  my  hands 
on  my  knees,  had  not  the  silence  been  disturbed  by  two  arri- 
vals of  romantic  tourists — an  Englishman  and  two  Frenchmen. 
We  exchanged  salutations,  and  I  mounted  the  restless  mare 
again,  touched  her  side  with  the  stirrup,  and  sped  back  to 
Luxor.  The  guide  galloped  beside  me,  occasionally  hurling 
his  spear  into  the  air  and  catching  it  as  it  fell,  delighted  with 
my  readiness  to  indulge  his  desert  whims.  I  found  the  cap- 
tain and  sailors  all  ready  and  xny  friend  smoking  his  pipe  oc 
deck  In  half  an  hour  we  had  left  Thebes. 


THR    IKMl'LS    Of    HKRMONTI8. 


CHAPTER     XI. 

FROM  THEBES  TO  THE  NUBIAN  FRONTIBB. 

Ite  1  eniple  of  Hermontls— Ksneli  and  its  Temple— The  Governor— El  Kab  by  Torch 

right  -The  Temple  of  Edfou— The  Quarries  of  Djebel  Silt-ileh — Ombos— App roach 
to  Nubia — Change  in  the  Scenery  and  Inhabitants — A  Mirage  -Arrival  at  Assouan. 

OUR  journey  from  Thebes  to  Assouan  occupied  six  days,  in- 
cluding a  halt  of  twenty-four  hours  at  Esneh.  We  left  Luxor 
on  the  night  of  December  8th,  but  the  westward  curve  of  the 
Nile  brought  us  in  opposition  with  the  wind,  and  the  next  day 
at  noon  we  had  only  reached  Erment,  the  ancient  Hermontis, 
in  sight  of  the  three  peaks  of  the  Theban  hills.  We  left  our 
men  to  tug  the  boat  along  shore,  and  wandered  off  to  the 
mounds  of  the  old  city,  still  graced  with  a  small  temple,  or 
lying-in  house  of  the  goddess  Reto,  who  is  here  represented  as 
giving  birth  to  the  god  Hor-pire.  The  sculptures  in  the  dark 
chambers,  now  used  as  stalls  for  asses,  were  evidently  intend- 
ed only  for  the  priesthood  of  the  temple,  and  are  not  repeated, 
as  are  those  of  other  temples,  in  the  halls  open  to  the  public 
Notwithstanding  the  great  license  which  the  Egyptian  faith 
assumed,  its  symbols  are,  in  general,  scrupulously  guarded 
tVoin  all  low  and  unworthy  forms  of  representation. 

The  group  of  pillars  in  the  outei  court  charmed  us  by  the 
7 


146  JOUBNKT    TO    CENTRAL    AFiiiCA. 

richness  and  variety  of  their  designs.  No  two  capitals  are  ol 
similar  pattern,  while  in  their  combinations  of  the  papyrus,  the 
lotus  and  the  palm-leaf,  they  harmonize  one  with  another  and 
as  a  whole.  The  abacus,  between  the  capital  and  the  archi- 
trave, is  so  high  as  almost  to  resemble  a  second  shaft.  It 
Karnak  and  the  Memnonium  it  is  narrow,  and  lifts  the  pon- 
derous beam  just  enough  to  prevent  its  oppressing  the  lightness 
of  the  capital.  I  was  so  delighted  with  the  pillars  of  Hermon- 
tis  that  I  scarcely  knew  whether  to  call  this  peculiarity  a  grace 
or  a  defect.  I  have  never  seen  it  employed  in  modern  archi- 
tecture, and  judge  therefore  that  it  has  either  been  condemned 
by  our  rules  or  that  our  architects  have  not  the  skill  and  dar- 
ing of  the  Egyptians. 

We  reached  Esneh  the  same  night,  but  were  obliged  to  re- 
main all  the  next  day  in  order  to  allow  our  sailors  to  bake 
their  bread.  We  employed  the  time  in  visiting  the  temple, 
the  only  remnant  of  the  ancient  Latopolis,  and  the  palace  of 
Abbas  Pasha,  on  the  bank  of  the  Nile.  The  portico  of  the 
temple,  half  buried  in  rubbish,  like  that  of  Dendera,  which  it 
resembles  in  design,  is  exceedingly  beautiful.  Each  of  its 
twenty-four  columns  is  crowned  with  a  different  capital,  so 
chaste  and  elegant  in  their  execution  that  it  is  impossible  to 
give  any  one  the  preference.  The  designs  are  mostly  copied 
from  the  doum-palm,  the  date-palm,  and  the  lotus,  but  the 
cane,  the  vine,  and  various  water-plants  are  also  introduced. 
The  building  dates  from  the  time  of  the  Ptolemies,  and  its 
•culptures  are  uninteresting.  We  devoted  all  our  time  to  the 
study  of  the  capitals,  a  labyrinth  of  beauty,  in  which  we  were 
soon  entangled.  The  Governor  of  Esneh,  Ali  Effendi,  a  most 
friendly  and  agreeable  Arab,  accompanied  us  through  the  tern- 


KL    KAB    BY    TORCHLIGHT.  14 

pie,  and  pointed  out  all  the  fishes,  birds  and  crocodiles  he 
could  find.  To  him  they  were  evidently  the  most  interesting 
things  in  it.  He  asked  me  how  old  the  building  was,  and  b> 
whom  it  had  been  erected.  On  leaving,  we  accepted  his  invi- 
tation to  partake  of  coffee  and  pipes.  The  visit  took  place  in 
due  form,  with  many  grave  salutations,  which  we  conscien- 
tiously imitated.  Achmet  had  returned  to  our  boat,  and  my 
small  stock  of  Arabic  was  soon  exhausted,  but  we  managed  to 
exchango  all  the  necessary  common-places. 

The  day  of  leaving  Esneh,  we  reached  El  Kab,  the  ancient 
Eleuthyas,  whose  rock-tombs  are  among  the  most  curious  in 
Egypt.  We  landed  at  twilight,  provided  with  candles,  and 
made  our  way  through  fields  of  wiry  half  eh  grass,  and  through 
a  breach  in  the  brick  wall  of  the  ancient  town,  to  the  Arabian 
Desert.  It  was  already  dark,  but  our  guide,  armed  with  bin 
long  spear,  stalked  vigorously  forward,  and  brought  us  safely 
up  the  mountain  path  to  the  entrances  of  the  sepulchres. 
There  are  a  large  number  of  these,  but  only  two  are  worth 
visiting,  on  account  of  the  light  which  they  throw  on  the  social 
life  of  the  Egyptians.  The  owner  of  the  tomb  and  his  wife — 
a  red  man  and  a  yellow  woman — are  here  seen,  receiving  the 
delighted  guests.  Seats  are  given  them  and  each  is  presented 
with  an  aromatic  flower,  while  the  wrvants  in  the  kitchen 
hasten  to  prepare  savory  dishes.  In^other  compartments,  all 
the  most  minute  processes  of  agriculture  are  represented  with 
wonderful  fidelity.  So  little  change  has  taken  place  in  three 
thousand  years,  that  they  would  answer,  with  scarcely  a  cor- 
rection, as  illustratioEB  of  the  Fellah  agriculture  of  Modern 
Egypt. 

The  next  morning  we  walked  ahead  to  the  temple  of  Edfou 


148  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

shooting  a  few  brace  of  fat  partridges  by  the  way,  and  scaring 
two  large  jackals  from  their  lairs  in  the  thick  grass.  The 
superb  pylon  of  the  temple  rose  above  the  earthy  mounds  of 
Apollinopolis  like  a  double-truncated  pyramid.  It  is  in  an 
entire  state  of  preservation,  with  all  its  internal  chambers,  pas- 
sages and  stairways.  The  exterior  is  sculptured  with  colossal 
figures  of  the  gods,  thirty  feet  in  height,  and  from  the  base 
of  the  portal  to  the  scroll-like  cornice  of  the  pylon,  is  more 
than  a  hundred  feet.  Through  the  door  we  entered  a  large  open 
court,  surrounded  by  a  colonnade.  The  grand  portico  of  the 
temple,  buried  nearly  to  the  tops  of  its  pillars,  faced  us,  and 
we  could  only  judge,  from  the  designs  of  the  capitals  and  the 
girth  of  the  shaft,  the  imposing  effect  which  it  must  have  pro- 
duced on  those  who  entered  the  court.  The  interior  is  totally 
filled  with  rubbish,  and  a  whole  village  of  Arab  huts  stands  on 
the  roof. 

A  strong  wind  carried  us,  before  sunset,  to  the  quarries  of 
Djebel  Silsileh,  the  "  Mountain  of  the  Chain,"  where  the  Nile 
is  compressed  between  two  rugged  sandstone  hills.  The  river 
is  not  more  than  three,  hundred  yards  broad,  and  the  approach 
to  this  rocky  gateway,  after  so  many  weeks  of  level  alluvial 
plain,  is  very  striking.  Here  are  the  sandstone  quarries  whence 
the  huge  blocks  were  cut,  to  build  the  temples  and  shape  the 
colossi  of  Thebes.  They  lie  on  the  eastern  bank,  close  to  the 
river,  and  the  ways  down  which  the  stones  were  slid  to  the 
vessels  that  received  them,  are  still  to  be  seen.  The  stone  is 
of  a  pale  reddish-brown  color,  and  a  very  fine  and  clear  grain. 
It  appears  to  have  been  divided  into  squares  of  the  proper  size, 
and  cut  from  above  downward.  The  shape  of  many  of  the 
enormous  blocks  may  be  easily  traced.  In  one  place  the  rod 


THE    RTTIXS    OF    OMBOS.  149 

has  been  roughly  hewii  into  a  sort  of  temple,  supported  by  pil- 
lars thirty  feet  square,  and  with  an  entrance  as  grand  and  rude 
as  a  work  of  the  Titans. 

In  the  morning  we  awoke  in  the  shadow  of  Ombos,  whici 
stands  on  a  hill  overlooking  the  Nile,  into  which  its  temple  to 
Isis  has  fallen.  Little  now  remains  of  the  great  temple  to 
Savak,  the  crocodile-headed  god,  the  deity  of  Ombos,  but  its 
double  portico,  supported  by  thirteen  pillars,  buried  nearly 
waist-deep  in  the  sauds.  The  aspect  of  these  remains,  seated 
on  the  lonely  promontory  commanding  the  course  of  the  river 
and  the  harvest-land  of  the  opposite  shore,  while  the  stealthy 
Desert  approaches  it  from  behind,  and  year  by  year  heaps  the 
sand  higher  against  the  shattered  sanctuary,  is  sadly  touching 
We  lingered  and  lingered  around  its  columns,  loth  to  leave  the 
ruined  grace  which  a  very  few  years  will  obliterate.  Two  such 
foes  as  the  Nile  and  the  Desert  make  rapid  progress,  where  no 
human  hand  is  interposed  to  stay  them.  As  we  sailed  away,  a 
large  crocodile,  perhaps  Savak  himself,  lay  motionless  on  a 
sand-bank  with  his  long  snout  raised  in  the  air. 

We  were  two  days  in  sailing  from  Ombos  to  Assouan 
owing  to  a  dead  calm,  the  first  in  two  weeks.  The  nights  were 
very  cool,  and  the  mid-day  temperature  not  too  warm  for  com- 
fort. One  morning  my  thermometer  stood  at  40° ;  the  Arabe 
complained  bitterly  of  the  cold,  and,  wrapped  in  their  woolen 
mantles,  crawled  about  the  deck  as  languidly  as  benumbed  flies. 
At  noon  the  mercury  did  not  often  rise  above  75°  in  the 
shade  As  we  approach  Nubia,  the  scenery  of  the  river 
undergoes  a  complete  change.  The  rugged  hills  of  black  sand- 
stone  and  granite  usurp  the  place  of  the  fields,  and  leave  but  a 
narrow  strip  of  cultivable  land  on  either  side.  The  Arabs  are 


150  JOURNEY   TC     CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

darker  and  show  the  blood  of  the  desert  tribes  in  their  features 
They  are,  however,  exceedingly  friendly.  The  day  before 
reaching  Assouan,  we  walked  ahead  of  our  boat  and  were 
obliged  to  wait  two  or  three  hours.  We  had  a  retinue  of  boys 
whc  pummelled  one  another  as  to  which  should  pick  up  the 
pigeons  we  shot.  The  successful  one  came  bounding  back  with 
a  face  sparkling  with  delight,  and  kissed  the  bird  and  touched 
it  to  his  forehead  as  he  gave  it  to  us.  As  we  were  resting 
under  the  palm-trees,  my  friend  regretted  that  we  had  not 
brought  our  shebooks  along  with  us.  One  of  the  Arabs,  guess- 
ing his  wish  from  the  word  "  shebook,"  instantly  ran  off  and 
Hcoured  the  dourra-fields  until  he  found  a  laborer  who  owned 
a  pipe.  He  brought  the  man  back,  with  the  sickle  in  his  hand 
and  a  corn-stalk  pipe  of  very  indifferent  tobacco,  which  he 
gravely  presented  to  my  friend.  Before  returning  on  board  we 
saw  a  wonderful  mirage.  Two  small  lakes  of  blue  water,  glit- 
tering in  the  sun,  lay  spread  in  the  yellow  sands,  apparently 
not  more  than  a  mile  distant.  There  was  not  the  least  sign 
of  vapor  in  the  air,  and  as  we  were  quite  unacquainted  with  the 
appearance  of  the  mirage,  we  decided  that  the  lakes  were  Nile- 
water,  left  from  the  inundation.  I  pointed  to  them  and  asked 
the  Arabs :  "  Is  that  water  ?  "  "  No,  no ! "  they  all  exclaimed : 
"  that  is  no  water — that  is  a  bahr  Shaytan  I "  (a  river  of  the 
Devil). 

The  white  tomb  of  a  Moslem  saint,  sparkling  in  the  noon 
day  sun,  on  the  summit  of  a  hill  overlooking  the  Nile,  finally 
announced  our  arrival  at  the  Nubian  frontier.  We  now  beheld 
the  palms  of  Assouan  and  the  granite  cliffs  beyond — which 
we  had  been  so  impatient  to  reach,  a  few  hours  before — with 
regret,  almost  with  dread.  This  was  our  point  of  separation. 


THE    NflUAN'    FKO.VT1KU.  151 

My  pathway  was  through  those  desolate  hills,  into  the  heart 
of  Nubia,  into  the  Desert,  and  the  strange  countries  beyond, 
where  so  few  had  been  before  me.  The  vestibule  was  passed  : 
Egypt  lay  behind  nie.  The  long  landscape  of  the  Nile  was 
but  the  dronios  to  that  temple  of  African  life,  whose  adytum 
was  still  far  in  advance,  deep  in  the  fiery  tropical  silence  of 
Ethiopia.  While  my  blood  thrilled  at  the  prospect,  and  the 
thirst  of  adventure  and  discovery  inspired  me  as  the  wind  of 
the  Desert  inspires  the  Arab  charger,  I  could  not  part  with  in- 
difference from  the  man  who  had  shared  with  me  the  first  au- 
gust, impression,  the  sublime  fascination  of  Egypt.  Nor  was 
the  prospect  of  a  solitary  voyage  back  to  Cairo  at  all  cheering 
to  him.  Achmet  would  of  course  accompany  me,  and  the  cook, 
Salame,  who  knew  barely  twenty  words  of  French  and  Italian, 
must  perforce  act  as  dragoman.  My  friend  was  therefore  com- 
pletely at  the  mercy  of  the  captain  and  crew,  and  saw  nothing 
Dut  annoyance  and  embarrassment  before  him.  I  had  much 
frust  in  Rais  Hassan's  honesty  and  good  faith,  and  was  glad 
A)  learn,  several  months  afterwards,  that  his  conduct  had  coo- 
firmed  it. 


152  JOtTRNKY    TO    CENTRAL    ATCIOA. 


CHAPTER    XII 

PHILJB      AND      THE      CATARACT. 

An  Official  Visit— Acbmefs  Dexterity— The  Island  of  Elephantine— Nubian  Cl  dl<>«v- 
Trip  to  Philse— Llnant  Bey— The  Island  of  Philse— Sculptures—  The  Negr>  Eno- 
Breakfast  in  a  Ptolemaic  Temple— The  Island  of  Biggeh— Backsheesh— The  Cataract 
—The  Granite  Quarries  of  Assouan— The  Travellers  separate. 

"  Where  Nile  reflects  the  endless  length 
Of  dark-red  colonnades." — MACAULAT. 

WE  had  scarcely  moored  our  vessel  to  the  beach  at  Assot. 
an,  before  a  messenger  of  the  Governor  arrived  to  ask  if  there 
was  an  American  on  board.  He  received  the  information,  and 
we  were  occupied  in  preparing  ourselves  for  an  excursion  to 
the  island  of  Elephantine,  when  Achniet  called  to  us :  <l  The 
Governor  is  coming."  We  had  no  time  to  arrange  our  cabin 
for  his  reception ;  he  was  already  at  the  door,  with  two  attend 
ants,  and  the  most  I  could  do  was  to  clear  sufficient  space  for 
a  seat  on  my  divan.  His  Excellency  was  a  short,  stout,  broad- 
faced  man,  with  large  eyes,  a  gray  beard  and  a  flat  nose.  He 
wore  a  semi- European  dress  of  brown  cloth,  and  was  blunt 
though  cordial  in  his  manners.  His  attendants,  one  of  whom 
was  the  Captain  of  the  Cataract,  wore  the  Egyptian  dress, 
with  black  turbans.  They  saluted  us  by  touching  their  handi 


THE  GOVERNOR'S  VISIT.  153 

to  the  lips  and  forehead,  and  we  responded  iu  similar  manner, 
after  which  the  Governor  inquired  after  our  health  and  we  in- 
quired after  his.  I  delivered  my  letter,  and  while  he  was  occu- 
pied in  reading  it,  Achmet  prepared  the  coffee  and  pipes. 
Luckily,  we  had  three  shebooks,  the  best  of  which,  having  an 
amber  mouth-piece,  was  presented  to  the  Governor.  I  waited 
for  the  coffee  with  some  trepidation,  for  I  knew  we  had  but 
two  Turkish  Jinjans,  and  a  Frank  cup  was  out  of  the  question. 
However,  Achmet  was  a  skilful  servant.  He  presented  the 
cups  at  such  intervals  that  one  was  sure  to  be  empty  while  the 
other  was  full,  and  artfully  drew  away  the  attention  of  our 
guests  by  his  ceremonious  presentations ;  so  that  not  only  they 
but  both  of  us  partook  twice  of  coffee,  without  the  least 
embarrassment,  and  I  believe,  had  there  been  ten  persons 
instead  of  five,  he  would  have  given  the  two  cups  the  effect  of 
ten, 

After  the  Governor  had  expressed  his  pleasure  in  flowing 
Oriental  phrases,  and  promised  to  engage  me  a  boat  for  Koros- 
ko,  he  took  his  leave  and  we  crossed  in  a  ferry  barge  to  Ele- 
phantine. This  is  a  small  but  fertile  island,  whose  granite 
foundations  are  fast  anchored  in  the  Nile.  It  once  was  cover- 
ed with  extensive  ruins,  but  they  have  all  been  destroyed  ex- 
cept a  single  gateway  and  an  altar  to  Amun,  both  of  red  gran- 
ite, and  a  sitting  statue  of  marble.  The  southern  part  is  en- 
tirely covered  with  the  ruins  of  a  village  of  unburnt  brick,  from 
the  topmost  piles  of  which  we  enjoyed  a  fine  view  of  the  pic- 
turesque environs  of  Assouan.  The  bed  of  the  Nile,  to  the 
south,  was  broken  with  isles  of  dark-red  granite  rock,  the  same 
formation  which  appears  in  the  jagged  crests  of  the  mountains 
beyond  the  city.  Scattered  over  them  were  the  tombs  of  holj 
7* 


154  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

men,  dating  from  the  times  of  the  Saracens.  A  thin  palm- 
grove  somewhat  concealed  the  barren  aspect  of  the  city,  bu* 
our  glances  passed  it,  to  rest  on  the  distant  hills,  kindling  in 
the  setting  sun. 

The  island  is  inhabited  by  Nubians,  and  some  twenty  01 
thirty  children,  of  from  six  to  ten  years  of  age — the  boys  entire- 
ly naked,  the  girls  wearing  the  raliad,  a  narrow  leathern  girdle, 
around  the  loins — surrounded  us,  crying  "backsheesh/"  and 
offering  for  sale  bits  of  agate,  coins,  and  fragments  of  pottery. 
Some  of  them  had  cunning  but  none  of  them  intelligent  faces , 
and  their  large  black  eyes  had  an  astonishingly  precocious  ex- 
pression of  sensuality.  We  bought  a  few  trifles  and  tried  to 
dismiss  them,  but  their  numbers  increased,  so  that  by  the  time 
we  had  made  the  tour  of  the  island  we  had  a  retinue  of  fifty 
followers.  I  took  the  branches  of  henna  they  offered  me  and 
switched  the  most  impudent  of  them,  but  they  seemed  then  to 
consider  that  they  had  a  rightful  claim  to  the  backsheesh,  and 
were  more  importunate  than  ever.  As  we  left,  they  gathered 
on  the  shore  and  sang  us  a  farewell  chorus,  but  a  few  five  para 
pieces,  thrown  among  them,  changed  the  harmony  into  a 
scramble  and  a  fight,  in  which  occupation  these  lovely  children 
of  Nature  were  engaged  until  we  lost  sight  of  them. 

The  next  day  we  visited  Philae.  We  took  donkeys  and  a 
guide  and  threaded  the  dismal  valley  of  Saracenic  tombs  south 
of  the  town,  into  a  pass  leading  through  the  granite  hills. 
The  landscape  was  wintry  in  its  bleakness  and  ruggedness 
The  path  over  which  we  rode  was  hard  sand  and  gravel,  and 
on  both  sides  the  dark  rocks  were  piled  in  a  thousand  wonder- 
ful combinations  On  the  surface  there  is  no  appearance  of 
regular  strata,  but  rather  of  some  terrible  convulsion,  whicb 


LITfANT     RET.  165 

has  broken  the  immense  masses  and  thrown  them  confusedly 
together.  Russegger  noticed  that  the  structure  of  the  primi- 
tive strata  of  Assouan  was  exactly  similar  to  that  of  Norther 
Lapland.  The  varieties  of  landscape,  in  different  climates, 
depend  therefore  upon  the  difference  of  vegetation  and  of  atmos- 
pheric effect,  rather  than  that  of  geological  forms,  which  al 
ways  preserve  their  identity.  Dr.  Kane  also  found  in  the 
bleak  hills  of  Greenland  the  same  structure  which  he  had 
observed  in  the  Ghauts  of  tropical  India. 

After  three  or  four  miles  of  this  travel  the  pass  opened 
upon  the  Nile,  just  above  the  Cataract.  At  the  termination 
of  the  portage  is  a  Nubian  village,  whose  plantations  of  dourn 
and  date-palms  and  acacias  are  dazzling  in  their  greenness, 
from  contrast  with  the  bleak  pyramids  of  rock  and  the  tawny 
drifts  of  the  Lybian  sands  on  the  western  bank.  We  rode 
down  to  the  port,  where  a  dozen  trading  vessels  lay  at  anchor, 
and  took  a  large  boat  for  Philae.  The  Governor  of  Assouan 
was  there,  and  His  Excellency  showed  me  the  vessel  he  had 
engaged  for  me — a  small  and  rather  old  dahabiyeh,  but  the 
best  to  be  had.  The  price  was  one  hundred  and  fifty  piastres 
for  the  trip — about  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles — besides 
something  for  the  men.  Achmet  attributed  this  moderate  de- 
mand to  the  effect  of  a  timely  present,  which  had  been  deli- 
cately conveyed  into  the  Governor's  hands  the  night  before. 
There  was  a  tall  gentleman,  in  the  official  Egyptian  costume, 
in  company  with  the  Governor.  Achmet  said  he  was  a  French 
engineer  in  the  service  of  Abbas  Pasha,  and  I  afterwards 
learned  that  he  was  none  other  than  M.  Linant,  or  Lilian! 
Bey  whose  name  is  so  well  known  through  his  connection 
with  the  exploration  of  Petra,  and  of  the  antiquities  in  Ethio- 


156  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

pia.  He  was  accompanied  by  his  wife,  a  French  lady,  who 
greeted  us  courteously,  and  two  daughters  of  semi- Abyssinian 
origin.  The  latter  were  dressed  in  Oriental  costume,  but  un 
veiled.  M.  Linant  is  a  tall,  grave  person,  about  fifty  years  o. 
age.  He  wore  a  crescent  of  diamonds  on  his  breast,  and  hie 
features  expressed  all  the  dignity  and  repose  of  one  who  had 
become  thoroughly  naturalized  in  the  East. 

As  the  wind  carried  us  out  into  the  stream,  we  saw  the 
towers  of  the  temple  of  Isis,  on  Philae,  through  a  savage  gorge 
of  the  river.  The  enormous  masses  of  dark  granite  were  piled 
on  either  side  to  a  height  of  several  hundred  feet,  taking  in 
some  places  the  forms  of  monoliths  and  sitting  colossi,  one  of 
which  appeared  so  lightly  balanced  on  the  loose  summit  that  a 
strong  gale  might  topple  it  down  the  steep.  The  current  in 
the  narrow  channel  was  so  violent  that  we  could  make  no  head- 
way, but  a  Nubian  boy,  swimming  on  a  palm-log,  carried  a 
rope  to  the  shore,  and  we  were  at  length  towed  with  much  labor 
into  the  more  tranquil  basin  girdling  Philae.  The  four  lofty 
towers  of  the  two  pylons,  the  side  corridors  of  pillars  and  the 
exterior  walls  of  the  temple  seem  perfectly  preserved,  on  ap- 
proaching the  island,  the  green  turf  of  whose  banks  and  the 
grouping  of  its  palms  quite  conceal  the  ruins  of  a  miserable 
mnd  village  which  surrounds  the  structures.  Philae  is  the 
jewel  of  the  Nile,  but  these  ruins  are  an  unsightly  blotch, 
which  takes  away  half  its  lustre.  The  setting  is  nevertheless 
perfect.  The  basin  of  black,  jagged  mountains,  folding  on  all 
sides,  yet  half-disclosing  the  avenues  to  Egypt  and  Nubia; 
the  hem  of  emerald  turf  at  their  feet,  sprinkled  with  clusters 
»f  palm,  and  here  and  there  the  pillar  or  wall  of  a  temple; 
kbe  ring  of  the  bright  river,  no  longer  turbid  as  in  Lowei 


THE    TKMPI.ES    OF    PHII.vE.  1&1 

Egypt :  of  these  it  is  the  centre,  as  it  was  once  the  radiant 
focus  of  their  beauty. 

The  temple,  which  belongs  to  the  era  of  the  Ptolemies,  and 
is  little  more  than  two  thousand  years  old,  was  built  by  various 
monarchs,  and  is  very  irregular  in  its  plan.  Instead  of  pre- 
serving a  fixed  direction,  it  follows  the  curve  of  the  island,  ana 
its  various  corridors  and  pylons  have  been  added  to  each  other 
with  so  little  regard  to  proportion,  that  the  building  is  much 
more  agreeable  when  viewed  as  a  collection  of  detached  parts, 
than  as  a  whole.  From  its  locality,  it  has  suffered  compara- 
tively little  from  the  ravages  of  man,  and  might  be  restored  to 
almost  its  original  condition.  The  mud  which  Coptic  Chris- 
tians plastered  over  the  walls  of  its  sanctuaries  has  concealed, 
but  not  defaced,  their  richly-colored  sculptures,  and  the  palm- 
leaf  and  lotus  capitals  of  its  portico  retain  the  first  brilliancy 
of  their  green  and  blue  tints.  The  double  corridor  of  thirty- 
six  columns,  in  front  of  the  temple,  reaching  to  the  southern 
end  of  the  island,  has  never  been  finished,  some  of  the  capitals 
last  erected  being  unsculptured,  and  others  exhibiting  various 
stages  of  completion.  In  Egypt  one  so  accustoms  himself  to 
looking  back  four  thousand  years,  that  Philae  seems  but  of  yes- 
terday. The  Gothic  Cathedrals  of  the  Middle  Ages  are  like 
antediluvian  remains,  compared  with  its  apparent  newness  and 
freshness. 

We  examined  the  interior  chambers  with  the  aid  of  a  torch, 
and  I  also  explored  several  secret  passages,  inclosed  in  the 
thickness  of  the  walls.  The  sculptures  are  raised  on  the  face 
of  the  stone,  and  painted  in  light  and  brilliant  colors.  They 
represent  Isis  and  Osiris,  with  their  offspring,  the  god  Horus, 
which  three  cons*ituted  the  Trinity  worshipped  in  Pliilae.  In 


158  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

one  place  Isis  is  seen  giving  suck  to  the  infant  god — a  group 
which  bore  a  singular  resemblance  to  some  painting  I  have 
seen  of  the  Virgin  and  Child.  The  gods  are  here  painted  of 
fair,  Greek  complexion,  and  not,  as  in  the  oldest  tombs  and* 
temples,  of  a  light  red.  Their  profiles  are  symmetrical  and 
even  beautiful,  and  the  emblems  by  which  they  are  surround- 
ed are  drawn  and  colored  in  admirable  taste.  Those  friends 
of  the  African  Race,  who  point  to  Egypt  as  a  proof  of  what 
that  race  has  accomplished,  are  wholly  mistaken.  The  only 
negro  features  represented  in  Egyptian  sculpture  are  those  of 
slaves  and  captives  taken  in  the  Ethiopian  wars  of  the  Pha- 
raohs. The  temples  and  pyramids  throughout  Nubia,  as  far 
as  the  frontiers  of  Dar-Fur  and  Abyssinia,  all  bear  the  hiero- 
glyphs of  these  monarchs,  and  there  is  no  evidence  in  all  the 
valley  of  the  Nile  that  the  Negro  Race  ever  attained  a  higher 
degree  of  civilization  than  is  at  present  exhibited  in  Congo  and 
Ashantee. 

East  of  the  great  temple  is  a  square,  open  building,  whose 
four  sides  are  rows  of  columns,  supporting  an  architrave,  and 
united,  at  about  half  their  height,  by  screens  of  stone.  The 
capitals  are  all  of  different  design,  yet  exhibit  the  same  ex- 
quisite harmony  which  charmed  us  in  Hermontis  and  Esneh. 
The  screens  and  pillars  were  evidently  intended  to  have  been 
covered  with  sculpture,  and  a  roof  of  sandstone  blocks  was  to 
have  been  added,  which  would  have  made  the  structure  as  per- 
fect as  it  is  unique.  The  square  block,  or  abacus,  interposed 
between  the  capital  and  architrave,  is  even  higher  than  in  the 
pillars  of  Hermontis,  and  I  was  equally  puzzled  whether  to 
call  it  a  grace  or  a  defect.  There  was  one  thing,  however 
which  certainly  did  give  a  grace  to  the  building,  and  that  was 


u BACK8HEESH  !"  159 

our  breakfast,  which  we  ate  on  a  block  large  enough  to  have 
made  an  altar  for  the  Theban  Jupiter,  surrounded  by  a  crowd 
of  silent  Arabs.  They  contemplated  the  ruins  of  our  cold 
fowls  with  no  less  interest  than  did  we  those  of  the  temples  of 
Philae. 

Before  returning,  we  crossed  to  the  island  of  Biggeh, 
where  two  pillars  of  a  temple  to  Athor  stand  sentry  before  the 
door  of  a  mud  hut,  and  a  red  granite  colossus  is  lucky  in 
having  no  head,  since  it  is  spared  the  sight  of  such  desecra 
tion.  The  children  of  Biggeh  fairly  drove  us  away  with  the 
cries  of  "  backsheesh  !  "  The  hideous  word  had  been  rung  in 
our  ears  since  leaving  Assouan,  and  when  we  were  again  salut- 
ed with  it,  on  landing  at  the  head  of  the  Cataract,  patience 
ceased  to  be  a  virtue.  My  friend  took  his  cane  and  I  the 
stick  of  my  donkey-driver,  and  since  the  naked  pests  dared 
not  approach  near  enough  to  get  the  backsheesh,  they  finally 
ceased  to  demand  it.  The  word  is  in  every  Nubian  mouth, 
and  the  very  boatmen  and  camel-drivers  as  they  passed  us  said 
"  backsheesh"  instead  of  "good  morning."  As  it  was  impos- 
sible to  avoid  hearing  it,  I  used  the  word  in  the  same  way, 
and  cordially  returned  the  greeting.  A  few  days  previous,  as 
we  were  walking  on  shore  near  Esneh,  a  company  of  laborers 
in  a  dourra-field  began  the  cry.  I  responded,  holding  out  my 
hand,  whereupon  one  of  the  men  pulled  off  his  white  cotton 
cap  (his  only  garment),  and  offered  it  to  me,  saying :  "  If  you 
are  poor,  take  it." 

We  walked  down  to  the  edge  of  the  Cataract  and  climbed 
*  rock,  which  commanded  a  view  of  the  principal  rapid. 
There  is  nothing  like  a  fall,  and  the  passage  up  and  down  ia 
attended  with  little  peril.  The  bed  of  the  Nile  is  filled  with 


160  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

granite  masses,  around  which  the  swift  current  roars  and 
foams,  and  I  can  imagine  that  the  descent  must  be  very  ex- 
citing, though  perhaps  less  so  than  that  of  the  Rapids  of  the 
St.  Lawrence.  Boats  are  towed  up,  under  the  superintendence* 
of  one  of  the  rais,  or  captains  of  the  Cataract  There  are  foui 
of  these  officers,  with  a  body  of  about  two  hundred  men.  The 
fee  varies  from  two  to  four  hundred  piastres,  according  to  the 
size  of  the  boat.  One  third  of  the  money  is  divided  among 
the  captains,  and  the  remainder  falls  to  the  portion  of  the  men. 
This  also  includes  the  descent,  -and  travellers  going  to  the 
Second  Cataract  and  back,  pay  half  the  fee  on  returning. 

On  the  following  morning  we  visited  the  ancient  granite 
quarries  of  Assouan.  They  lie  in  the  hills,  south  of  the  town, 
and  more  than  a  mile  from  the  river.  I  never  saw  a  more 
magnificent  bed  of  rock.  Its  color  is  a  light  red,  flecked  with 
green,  and  its  grain  is  very  fine  and  nearly  as  solid  as  por- 
phyry. An  obelisk,  one  hundred  feet  long  and  twelve  feet 
square  at  the  base,  still  lies  in  the  quarry,  having  been  aban- 
doned on  account  of  a  slight  fissure  near  its  summit.  Grooves 
were  afterward  cut,  for  the  purpose  of  separating  it  into  blocks, 
but  for  some  reason  or  other  the  design  was  not  carried  out. 
In  many  parts  of  the  quarry  the  method  employed  by  the 
Egyptians  to  detach  the  enormous  masses,  is  plainly  to  be 
geen.  A  shallow  groove  was  first  sunk  along  the  line  of  frac- 
ture, after  which  mortices  about  three  inches  wide  and  four 
deep,  were  cut  at  short  intervals,  for  the  purpose  of  receiving 
wooden  wedges.  These  having  been  driven  firmly  into  their 
sockets,  were  saturated  with  water,  and  by  their  expansion 
forced  the  solid  grain  asunder. 

We  rode  back  to  the  Cleopatra  with  heavy  hearts.     Everj 


THE  TRAVELLERS  SEPARATE.  161 

thing  had  been  prepared  for  our  departure,  my  friend  for  Cairfl 
and  Germany,  and  I  for  the  Nubian  Desert  and  White  Nile 
The  Governor  of  Assouan  had  despatched  a  letter  to  the  Gov 
ernor  of  Korosko,  asking  him  to  have  camels  ready  for  the 
Desert,  on  my  arrival,  my  own  letters  to  my  friends  were  fin- 
ished, my  equipage  had  been  transferred  to  the  shore,  and 
camels  had  arrived  to  transport  it  around  the  Cataract  to  the 
Nubian  village,  where  my  boat  was  in  readiness.  Our  hand- 
some sailor,  Ali,  begged  so  hard  to  be  allowed  to  accompany 
me,  that  I  finally  agreed  to  take  him  as  a  servant,  and  he  was 
already  on  duty.  Achmet  was  nearly  as  cheerful  as  he,  not- 
withstanding he  had  just  written  to  his  family  to  say  that  he 
was  going  to  Soudan,  and  had  given  up,  as  he  afterwards  in- 
formed me,  all  hopes  of  ever  seeing  Egypt  again.  The  Amer- 
ican flag  was  run  down,  and  the  Saxe-Coburg  colors — green 
and  white — hoisted  in  its  stead.  We  had  a  parting  visit  froin 
the  Governor,  who  gave  me  another  letter  to  Korosko,  and  we 
then  sat  down  to  a  breakfast  for  which  we  had  no  appetite. 
The  camels  were  loaded  and  sent  off  in  advance,  under  Ali's 
charge,  but  I  waited  until  every  man  was  on  board  the  good 
old  vessel  and  ready  to  push  off  for  Cairo.  The  large  mait 
sail  was  unshipped  and  laid  over  the  cabin,  and  the  stern-saii 
only  to  be  used  when  the  south-wind  blows,  hoisted  in  its 
place.  The  tow-rope  was  wound  up  and  stowed  away,  and  the 
large  oars  hung  in  the  rowlocks.  Finally,  every  sailor  was  at 
his  post ;  the  moment  came,  and  we  parted,  as  two  men  seldom 
part,  who  were  strangers  six  weeks  before.  I  goaded  my  don- 
key desperately  over  the  sands,  hastened  the  loading  jf  mj 
effects,  and  was  speedily  afloat  and  alone  on  the  Nubian  Nile 


All. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE       KUBIAN       NILB. 

Solitary  Travel — Scenery  of  the  Nubian  Nile — Agriculture — The  Inhabit^.*  A-tivil 
•t  Korosko— The  Governor— The  Tent  Pitched— Shekh  Abon-Moha..,«^d— Bar 
gaining  for  Camels — A  Drove  of  Giraffes— Visits— Preparations  for  the  i^esert-'M; 
Last  Evening  on  the  Nile. 

WE  passed  to  the  west  of  the  island  of  Biggeh,  where  the  cur- 
rent is  less  rapid,  and  a  gentle  north  wind  soon  carried  us 
Iway  from  Philae.  Dark  mountains  of  porphyry  rock  inclosed 
the  river,  and  the  solitude  of  the  shores,  broken  only  by  the 
creaking  of  an  occasional  sakia,  or  irrigating  wheel,  made  me 
feel  keeuly  the  loneliness  of  my  situation.  Achmet,  who  now 
becau.e  cook  as  well  as  dragoman  served  me  up  three  fowls, 


NUBIAN    SCENERY.  168 

cooked  in  different  tty.es,  for  dinner — partly  as  an  earnest  of 
his  skill,  and  partly  to  dispel  my  want  of  spirits.  But  the  fra- 
grant pipe  which  followed  dinner  was  the  true  promoter  of  pa- 
tience and  "  Patience,"  says  the  Arab  poet,  "  is  the  key  of 
Content.''  My  boat  was  a  small,  slow  craft,  and  Ra'is  Ileree- 
dee.  the  captain,  the  most  indolent  of  Nubians.  His  weak, 
feminine  face  showed  a  lack  of  character,  which  Achmet  soon 
turned  to  advantage,  by  taking  the  command  into  his  own 
hands.  The  wind  was  barely  strong  enough  to  obviate  the 
necessity  of  towing,  and  my  three  sailors  sat  on  the  bow  all 
day,  singing  :  "  andlrbuddee  !  anderbuddee  !  "  as  we  lazily 
ascended  the  river. 

Those  who  do  not  go  beyond  Thebes  are  only  half  acquaint- 
ed with  the  Nile.  Above  Esneh,  it  is  no  longer  a  broad,  lazy 
current,  watering  endless  fields  of  wheat  and  groves  of  palm, 
bounded  in  the  distance  by  level  lines  of  yellow  mountain-walls. 
It  is  narrower,  clearer  and  more  rapid,  and  its  valley,  after 
the  first  scanty  field  of  wheat  or  dourra,  strikes  the  foot  of 
broken  and  rocky  ranges,  through  the  gaps  in  which  the  winds 
of  the  Desert  have  spilled  its  sands.  There  is  not  the  same 
pale,  beautiful  monotony  of  color,  but  the  landscapes  are  full 
of  striking  contrasts,  and  strongly  accented  lights  and  shadows. 
Here,  in  Nubia,  these  characteristics  are  increased,  and  the 
Nile  becomes  a  river  of  the  North  under  a  Southern  sun.  The 
mountains  rise  on  either  hand  from  the  water's  edge ;  piles  of 
dark  sandstone  or  porphyry  rock,  sometimes  a  thousand  feet  in 
height,  where  a  blade  of  grass  never  grew,  every  notch  and  jag 
»n  their  crests,  every  fissure  on  their  sides,  revealed  in  an 
atmosphere  so  pure  and  crystalline,  that  nothing  but  one  of  GUI 
cloudless  mid-winter  days  can  c  jnal  it.  Their  hue  near  at 


1 04  JOtTRNK?    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

hand  is  a  glowing  brown :  in  the  distance  an  intense  violet 
On  the  western  bank  they  are  lower;  and  the  sand  of  that  vast 
Desert,  which  stretches  unbroken  to  the  Atlantic,  has  heaped 
itself  over  their  shoulders  and  poured  long  drifts  and  rills  even 
to  the  water.  In  color  it  is  a  tawny  gold,  almost  approach- 
ing a  salmon  tint,  and  its  glow  at  sunrise  equals  that  of  the 
snow-fields  of  the  Alps. 

The  arable  land  is  a  mere  hem,  a  few  yards  in  breadth  on 
either  side  of  the  river.  It  supports  a  few  scattering  date- 
palms,  which  are  the  principal  dependence  of  the  Nubiana 
They  are  taxed  at  the  rate  of  a  piastre  and  a  half  each,  annu- 
ally, the  trees  being  counted  every  five  years  by  a  Government 
officer  appointed  for  that  purpose.  If  half  of  them  should  die 
in  the  mean  time,  the  tax  remains  the  same  until  the  next 
count.  The  trees  are  seven  years  in  coming  to  maturity,  after 
which  they  produce  dates  for  seven  years,  and  then  gradually 
decay.  They  are  male  and  female,  and  are  generally  planted 
so  that  the  pollen  may  be  blown  from  the  male  to  the  female 
flowers.  In  some  parts  of  Egypt  this  impregnation  is  artifi- 
cially produced.  The  banks  are  planted  with  wheat,  beans  and 
a  species  of  lupin,  from  which  bread  is  made,  and  wherever  a 
little  shelf  of  soil  is  found  along  the  base  of  the  mountains,  the 
creaking  sakias  turn  day  and  night  to  give  life  to  patches  of  dour 
ra  and  cotton.  In  a  rough  shed,  protected  from  the  sun  by  palm- 
mats,  a  cow  or  buffalo  walks  a  weary  round,  raising  the  water, 
which  is  conveyed  in  small  channels,  built  of  clay,  to  all  the 
uumerous  beds  into  which  the  field  is  divided.  These  are  fill- 
ed, in  regular  succession  to  the  depth  of  two  inches,  and  then 
left  to  stand  until  dried  by  the  sun.  The  process  is  continued 
until  the  grain  is  nearly  ripe.  The  sakias  pay  a  tax  of  three 


ARRIVAL    AT    KORO8KO.  166 

hundred  piastres  a  year,  levied  in  lieu  of  a  ground  tax,  which  the 
Egyptians  pay.  With  all  their  labor,  the  inhabitants  scarcely 
produce  enough  to  support  themselves,  and  the  children  are 
Bent  to  Cairo  at  an  early  age,  where  they  become  house-ser 
vants,  and  like  the  Swiss  and  Savoyards,  send  home  a  portion 
of  their  earnings.  This  part  of  Nubia  is  inhabited  by  the 
Kenoos  tribe,  who  speak  a  language  of  their  own.  They  and 
their  language  are  designated  by  the  general  name  of  Barabra 
(nearly  equivalent  to  "  barbarians ")  by  the  Arabs.  They  are 
more  stupid  than  the  Egyptian  Fellahs,  but  their  character  for 
truth  and  honesty  is  superior.  In  my  walks  on  shore,  I  found 
them  very  friendly,  and  much  less  impudent  than  the  Nubians 
about  Assouan. 

The  northern  part  of  Nubia  is  rich  in  Egyptian  remains, 
but  I  hastened  on  without  visiting  them,  passing  the  temples 
of  Dabod,  Kalabshee,  Dakkeh,  Dendoor  and  Sebooa,  which 
looked  at  me  invitingly  from  the  western  bank.  Near  Dendoor 
I  crossed  the  Tropic  of  Cancer,  and  on  the  fourth  afternoon 
after  leaving  Assouan,  Kais  Hereedee  pointed  out  in  the  dis- 
tance the  mountain  of  Korosko,  the  goal  of  the  voyage.  I  was 
charmed  with  the  near  prospect  of  desert  life,  but  I  fancied 
Achmet  was  rather  grave,  since  all  beyond  was  an  unknown 
region  to  him.  The  sharp  peak  of  the  mountain  gradually 
drew  nearer,  and  at  dusk  my  boat  was  moored  to  a  palm-tree, 
in  front  of  the  village  of  Korosko. 

Tn  less  than  half  an  hour,  I  received  a  visit  from  the  Gov 
ernor,  Moussa  Effendi,  who  brought  me  good  news.  A  caravan 
had  just  arrived  from  Sennaar,  and  camels  were  in  readiness 
cor  the  journey  to  Berber,  in  Ethiopia.  This  was  very  lucky, 
for  merchants  are  frequently  detained  at  Korosko  twenty  ot 


166  JOURNEY  10  CENTRAL  AFRICA. 

thirty  days,  and  I  had  anticipated  a  delay  of  at  least  a  week 
I  also  learned  that  Dr.  Knoblecher,  the  Apostolic  Vicar  of  th« 
Catholic  Missions  in  Central  Africa,  had  left  for  Khartoum 
about  twenty  days  previous.  The  Governor  was  profuse  in  his 
offers  of  assistance,  stating  that  as  Shekh  Abou-Mohammed,  a ; 
chief  of  the  Ababdeh  tribe,  through  whose  territories  my  road 
lay,  was  then  in  Korosko,  he  would  be  enabled  to  make  every 
irrangement  for  my  safety  and  convenience. 

Early  the  next  morning  my  equipage  was  caken  ashor* 
and  my  tent  pitched  for  the  first  time,  under  a  clump  of  palm 
trees,  overlooking  the  Nile.  Leaving  AH  to  act  as  guard,  1 
took  Achmet  and  walked  up  to  the  village  of  Korosko,  which 
is  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  shore,  at  the  foot  of  the 
lofty  Djebel  Korosko.  The  Governor's  mansion  was  a  mud 
hut,  differing  from  the  other  huts  in  size  only.  His  Excellen 
cy  received  me  cordially,  and  immediately  sent  for  Shekh 
Abou-Mohammed,  with  whom  the  contract  for  camels  must  be 
made.  The  Shekh  was  a  tall,  imposing  personage,  with  a 
dark-brown  complexion,  but  perfectly  straight  and  regular  fea- 
tures. He  was  accompanied  by  a  superb  attendant — an  Abab- 
deh, six  feet  two  inches  in  height,  with  sharp,  symmetrical 
features,  and  a  fine,  fierce  eye.  His  hair  was  raised  perpendicu- 
larly from  his  forehead,  but  on  each  side  hung  down  in  a  great 
number  of  little  twists,  smeared  with  mutton-fat  and  castor-oil 
His  long  cotton  mantle  was  wrapped  around  him  like  a  Greek 
chlamys,  and  his  bearing  was  as  manly  and  majestic  as  that  of 
an  Ajax  or  a  Diomed.  There  was  some  controversy  about  the 
number  of  camels ;  Achmet  and  I  had  decided  that  we  should 
not  require  more  than  five,  and  the  Shekh  insisted  that  we 
should  take  more  but  finally  agreed  to  furnish  us  with  six,  in- 


BARGAINING    FOR    CAMELS.  161 

eluding  one  for  the  guide,  at  the  price  paid  by  officers  of  the 
Government — ninety  piastres  (four  dollars  and  fifty  cents)  each, 
to  El  Mekheyref,  the  capital  of  Dar  Berber,  a  journey  of  four 
teen  days.  This  included  the  services  of  camel-drivers,  and 
all  other  expenses,  except  the  hire  of  the  guide,  whose  fee  was 
that  of  a  camel — ninety  piastres.  Merchants  who  travel  this 
route,  pay  according  to  the  weight  of  their  loads,  and  frequent- 
ly from  one  hundred  and  twenty  to  one  hundred  and  fifty 
piastres. 

Soon  after  returning  to  my  tent,  I  was  again  visited  by  the 
Governor,  who  found  my  choice  Latakieh  very  acceptable  to  his 
taste.  I  therefore  presented  him  with  two  or  three  pounds  of 
it,  and  some  gunpowder,  which  he  received  in  a  way  that  made 
me  sure  of  his  good  offices.  Shekh  Abou-Mohammed  also 
came  down,  inspected  my  baggage,  and  was  satisfied  that  th< 
camels  would  not  be  overloaded.  He  declared,  however,  that  the 
four  geerbehs,  or  water-skins,  which  I  had  brought  from  Cairo, 
would  not  be  sufficient,  and  as  none  were  to  be  purchased  in 
Korosko,  loaned  me  four  more  for  the  journey,  on  my  agreeing 
to  pay  him  half  their  value.  I  also  paid  him  for  the  camels,  he 
giving  a  formal  receipt  therefor,  which  was  intrusted  to  the 
guide,  to  be  delivered  to  the  Governor  of  Berber,  on  our  arri- 
val there.  Three  short,  black  Arabs  of  the  Bisharee  tribe,  with 
immense  bushy  heads  of  twisted  and  greased  hair,  were  pre- 
sented to  me  as  the  camel-drivers.  After  receiving  their  share 
of  the  money  (for  the  camels  belonged  to  them),  they  squatted 
down  together  and  occupied  an  hour  or  two  in  counting  and 
dividing  it.  One  of  them  then  took  a  long  palm-rope,  and 
Went  into  the  desert  to  catch  the  animals,  while  the  others  re- 
mained t«  assist  in  arranging  the  baggage  into  separate  loada 


1<J8  JOURVEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA* 

Tne  caravan  from  Sennaar  brought  twelve  giraffes,  whicl 
had  been  captured  in  the  forests  of  the  Blue  Nile,  as  a  present 
from  Lattif  Pasha,  Governor  of  Soudan,  to  Abbas  Pasha. 
They  were  in  good  condition,  notwithstanding  the  toilsome 
march  across  the  Nubian  Desert.  The  officer  who  had  them 
in  charge  informed  me  that  they  made  frequent  efforts  to 
escape,  and  one  of  them,  which  broke  from  its  keeper's  hold, 
was  only  recaptured  after  a  chase  of  several  hours.  Four 
large  trading-boats  were  in  readiness,  to  convey  them  to  As- 
souan, and  the  graceful  creatures  stood  on  the  bank,  with  their 
heads  almost  touching  the  crowns  of  the  date-trees,  looking 
with  wonder  on  the  busy  scene  below.  For  a  long  time  they 
refused  to  enter  the  unsteady  barges,  but  at  last,  trembling 
with  fear,  they  were  forced  on  board  and  floated  away,  their 
slim  necks  towering  like  masts  in  the  distance. 

There  was  a  small  tent  on  the  bank,  pitched  not  far  from 
mine.  Its  occupant,  a  one-eyed,  olive-faced  young  man,  in 
Egyptian  costume,  came  to  pay  me  a  visit,  and  I  found  that 
he  was  a  son  of  M.  Linant,  by  a  former  Abyssinian  wife.  He 
was  then  making  his  second  trip  to  Soudan,  as  a  merchant,  on 
a  capital  of  twenty-five  thousand  piastres,  which  his  father  had 
given  him.  Although  he  only  required  twelve  camels,  he  had 
been  eight  days  in  Korosko  waiting  for  them,  and  was  still 
waiting  when  I  left.  He  was  accompanied  by  a  young  French- 
man, who  was  one  of  the  grandest  liars  I  ever  met.  He  told 
me  with  a  grave  face,  that  he  had  travelled  from  Algiers  to 
Egypt  through  the  Great  Sahara,  and  had  on  one  occasion 
gone  eight  days  without  water,  and  the  thermometer  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  degrees  in  the  shade  !  The  son  r f  the 
former  Mek  (king)  of  Shendy — the  same  fierce  old  savage  who 


ORIENTAL    COSTTMK.  169 

burned  to  death  Ismail  Pasha  and  his  soldiers — was  also  ic 
Korosko,  and  visited  me  during  the  day.  He  held  some  office 
under  Government,  which  made  him  responsible  for  the  secu- 
rity of  travellers  and  merchandise  in  the  Desert,  and  his  pres 
ence  probably  facilitated  my  arrangements.  He  was  a  strik 
ingly  handsome  man,  and  wore  a  superb  Cashmere  shawl 
twisted  around  his  head  as  a  turban. 

The  water-skins  were  soaked  in  the  Nile  all  day,  to  pre- 
pare them  for  use.  Achmet,  backed  by  the  Governor's  au- 
thority, ransacked  the  village  for  further  supplies  of  provisions, 
but  the  place  was  miserably  poor,  and  he  only  succeeded  in 
procuring  two  pounds  of  butter,  a  few  fowls,  and  some  bread. 
There  were  pigeons  in  abundance,  however,  and  he  cooked  a 
sufficient  number  to  last  us  two  or  three  days.  The  fowls 
were  placed  in  a  light  cafass,  or  coop,  to  be  carried  on  the  top 
of  the  baggage.  Ali,  proud  of  kis  new  station,  worked  faith- 
fully, and  before  night  all  our  preparations  were  completed. 
I  then  sent  for  a  barber,  had  my  hair  shorn  close  to  the  skin, 
and  assumed  the  complete  Egyptian  costume.  I  was  already 
accustomed  to  the  turban  and  shawl  around  the  waist,  and  the 
addition  of  a  light  silk  sidree,  or  shirt,  and  trowsers  whicfi 
contained  eighteen  yards  of  muslin,  completed  the  dress,  which 
in  its  grace,  convenience,  and  adaptation  to  the  climate  and 
habits  of  the  East,  is  immeasurably  superior  to  the  Frank  cos 
tame.  It  allows  complete  freedom  of  the  limbs,  while  the 
oaost  sensitive  parts  of  the  body  are  thoroughly  protected  from 
ehanges  of  temperature.  The  legs,  especially,  are  even  less 
fettered  by  the  wide  Turkish  trowsers  than  by  a  Highland  kilt, 
and  they  fold  themselves  under  you  naturally  arid  comfortably 
in  the  characteristic  attitude  of  the  Orientals.  The  turban 
8 


170  JOURNKV    TO    OKN'TKAT,    AFRICA. 


appears  so  hot  and  cumbrous,  is  in  reality  cool,  and  in» 
pervious  to  the  fiercest  sun  that  ever  blazed. 

After  dinner,  I  seated  myself  at  the  tenf  door,  wrapped  i 
my  capote,  and  gave  myself  up  to  the  pipe  of  meditation.  It 
was  a  splendid  starlit  evening.  Not  a  blade  of  the  palm- 
leaves  was  stirring,  and  the  only  sounds  I  heard  were  the  mel- 
ancholy drone  of  sakias  along  the  river,  and  the  cry  of  the 
jackal  among  the  hills.  The  Nile  had  already  become  my 
home,  endeared  to  me  not  more  by  the  grand  associations  of 
its  eldest  human  history  than  by  the  rest  and  the  patience 
which  I  had  breathed  in  its  calm  atmosphere.  Now  I  was  to 
leave  it  for  the  untried  Desert,  and  the  strange  regions  beyond, 
where  I  should  find  its  aspect  changed.  Would  it  still  give 
rue  the  same  health  of  body,  the  same  peace  and  contentment 
of  soul  ?  "  Achmet,"  said  I  to  the  Theban,  who  was  sitting 
not  far  off,  silently  smoking,  »  we  are  going  into  strange  coun- 
tries —  have  you  no  fear  ?"  "  You  remember,  master,''  he  an- 
swered. "  tnat  we  left  Cairo  on  a  lucky  day,  and  why  should  I 
Fear,  siow  all  things  are  in  the  hands  of  Allah  ?  ;' 


Eyoub,  the  Aoabdah  Guide. 


CHAPTER     XIV. 


THE   GREAT   NUBIAN   DESERT. 


Tie  Curve  of  the  Nile — Routes  across  the  Desert — Our  Caravan  starts— Riding  on  I 
Dromedary— The  Guide  and  Camel-drivers — Hair-dressing— El  Biban— Scenery- 
Dead  Camels — An  Unexpected  Visit— The  Guide  makes  my  Grave— The  Rivei 
without  Water— Characteristics  of  the  Mirage— Desert  Life— The  Sun— The  Desert 
Air— Infernal  Scenery— Tfce  Wells  of  Murr-bat— Christmas— Mountain  Chains  - 
Meeting  Caravans— Plains  of  Gravel— The  Story  of  Joseph— Djebcl  Mokrat— Th« 
L»«t  Day  In  the  Desert— We  see  the  Nile  again. 

"  He  sees  the  snake-like  caravan  crawl 
O'er  the  e<lge  of  the  De*>rt,  black  and  small, 
And  nearer  and  nearer,  till,  one  by  one. 
He  can  count  Its  camels  in  the  sun." — LOWELL. 

A  GLANCE  at  the  map  will  explain  the  necessity  of  my  Desert 
journey.  The  Nile,  at  Korosko  (which  is  in  lat.  22°  38^), 
makes  a  sharp  bend  to  uhe  west,  and  in  ascending  his  current, 


172  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

one  travels  in  a  south-westerly  direction  nearly  to  Dongola, 
thence  south  to  Edabbe,  in  lat.  18°,  after  which  his  course  ia 
north-east  as  far  as  lat  19°  307,  where  he  again  resumes  the 
general  southern  direction.  The  termini  of  this  immense 
curve,  called  by  the  ancients  the  "  elbows "  of  the  Nile,  are 
Korosko  and  Abou-Hammed,  in  southern  Nubia.  About 
ninety  miles  above  the  former  place,  at  Wadi  Haifa,  is  the 
second  cataract  of  the  Nile,  the  Southern  Thule  of  Egyptian 
tourists.  The  river,  between  that  point  and  Dongola,  is  so 
broken  by  rapids,  that  vessels  can  only  pass  during  the  inun 
dation,  and  then  with  great  difficulty  and  danger.  The  exi- 
gencies of  trade  have  established,  no  doubt  since  the  earliest 
times,  the  shorter  route  through  the  Desert.  The  distance  be- 
tween Korosko  and  Abou-Hammed,  by  the  river,  is  more  than 
six  hundred  miles,  while  by  the  Desert,  it  is,  according  to 
my  reckoning,  only  two  hundred  and  forty-seven  miles.  The 
former  caravan  route  led  directly  from  Assouan  to  Berber  and 
Shendy,  and  lay  some  distance  to  the  eastward  of  that  from 
Korosko.  It  is  the  same  travelled  by  Bruce  and  Burckhardt, 
but  is  now  almost  entirely  abandoned,  since  the  countries  of 
Soudan  have  been  made  tributary  to  Egypt.  It  lies  through 
a  chain  of  valleys,  inhabited  by  the  Ababdeh  Arabs,  and  ac- 
cord ing  to  Burckhardt,  there  are  trees  and  water,  at  short  in- 
tervals, for  the  greater  part  of  the  way.  The  same  traveller 
thus  describes  the  route  from  Korosko  :  "  On  that  road  the 
traveller  finds  only  a  single  well,  which  is  situated  midway 
four  long  days  distant  from  Berber  and  as  many  from  Sebooa 
[near  Korosko].  A  great  inconvenience  on  that  road  is  that 
neither  trees  nor  shrubs  are  anywhere  found,  whence  th« 
camels  are  much  distressed  for  food,  and  passengers  are  oblig 
ed  to  carry  wood  with  them  to  dress  their  meals." 


THE    CARAVAN    STARTS.  178 

On  the  morning  of  the  21st  of  December,  the  water-skina 
were  filled  from  the  Nile,  the  baggage  carefully  divided  into 
separate  loads,  the  unwilling  camels  received  their  burdens, 
and  I  mounted  a  dromedary  for  the  first  time.  My  little  cara- 
van consisted  of  six  camels,  including  that  of  the  guide.  As 
it  was  put  in  motion,  the  Governor  and  Shekh  Abou-Moham- 
med  wished  me  a  safe  journey  and  the  protection  of  Allah. 
We  passed  the  miserable  hamlet  of  Korosko,  turned  a  corner 
of  the  mountain-chain  into  a  narrow  stony  valley,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  lost  sight  of  the  Nile  and  his  belt  of  palms.  Thence- 
forth, for  many  days,  the  only  green  thing  to  be  seen  in  all  the 
wilderness  was  myself.  After  two  or  three  hours'  travel,  we 
passed  an  encampment  of  Arabs,  where  my  Bisharees  added 
another  camel  for  their  own  supplies,  and  two  Nubians,  mount- 
ed on  donkeys,  joined  us  for  the  march  to  Berber.  The  first 
day's  journey  lay  among  rugged  hills,  thrown  together  confus- 
edly, with  no  apparent  system  or  direction.  They  were  of  jet 
black  sandstone,  and  resembled  immense  piles  of  coke  and  an- 
thracite. The  small  glens  and  basins  inclosed  in  this  chaos 
were  filled  with  glowing  yellow  sand,  which  in  many  places 
streamed  down  the  crevices  of  the  black  rocks,  like  rivulets  of 
fire.  The  path  was  strewn  with  hollow  globes  of  hard,  black 
stones,  precisely  resembling  cannon-balls.  The  guide  gave 
me  one  of  the  size  of  a  rifle-bullet,  with  a  seam  around  the 
centre,  as  if  cast  in  a  mould.  The  thermometer  showed  a 
temperature  of  eighty  degrees  at  two  P.  M.,  but  the  heat  was 
tempered  by  a  pure,  fresh  breeze.  After  eight  hours'  travel,  1 
made  my  first  camp  at  sunset,  in  a  little  hollow  inclosed  bj 
mountains,  where  a  gray  jackal,  after  being  twice  shot  at,  cami 
•nd  looked  into  the  door  of  the  tent. 


174  JOURNEY    TO    CKNTKAl     AFRICA. 

I  found  dromedary-riding  not  at  all  difficult.  One  sits  OB 
a  very  lofty  seat,  with  his  feet  crossed  over  the  animal's  shoul 
ders  or  resting  on  his  neck.  The  body  is  obliged  to  rock  back- 
ward and  forward,  on  account  of  the  long,  swinging  gait,  and 
as  there  is  no  stay  or  fulcrum  except  a  blunt  pommel,  around 
which  the  legs  are  crossed,  some  little  power  of  equilibrium  is 
necessary.  My  dromedary  was  a  strong,  stately  beast,  of  a 
light  cream  color,  and  so  even  a  gait,  that  it  would  bear  the 
Arab  test :  that  is,  one  might  drink  a  cup  of  coffee,  while  go- 
ing on  a  full  trot,  without  spilling  a  drop.  I  found  a  great 
advantage  in  the  use  of  the  Oriental  costume.  My  trowsers 
allowed  the  legs  perfect  freedom  of  motion,  and  I  soon  learned 
BO  many  different  modes  of  crossing  those  members,  that  no 
day  was  sufficient  to  exhaust  them.  The  rising  and  kneeling 
of  the  animal  is  hazardous  at  first,  as  his  long  legs  double  to- 
gether like  a  carpenter's  rule,  and  you  are  thrown  backwards 
and  then  forwards,  and  then  backwards  again,  but  the  trick  of 
it  is  soon  learned.  The  soreness  and  fatigue  of  which  many 
travellers  complain,  I  never  felt,  and  I  attribute  much  of  it  tc 
the  Frank  dress.  I  rode  from  eight  to  ten  hours  a  day,  read 
and  even  dreamed  in  the  saddle,  and  was  at  night  as  fresh  and 
unwearied  as  when  I  mounted  in  the  morning. 

My  caravan  was  accompanied  by  four  Arabs.  The  guide, 
Eyoub,  was  an  old  Ababdeh,  who  knew  all  the  Desert  between 
the  Red  Sea  and  the  Nile,  as  far  south  as  Abyssinia.  The 
camel-drivers  were  of  the  great  Bisharee  tribe,  which  extends 
from  Shendy,  in  Ethiopia,  through  the  eastern  portion  of  the 
Nubian  Desert,  to  the  frontiers  of  Egypt.  They  owned  the 
burden  camels,  which  they  urged  along  with  the  cry  of  "  Yo- 
bo !  Shekh  Abd-ol  Kader  1 "  and  a  shrill  barbaric  song,  the 


THE    CAMEL-DRIVERS    AND    THEIR    HAIR.  115 

refrain  of  which  was :  "  0  Prophet  of  God,  help  the  camels  and 
bring  us  safely  to  our  journey's  end  !  "  They  were  very  sus- 
ceptible to  cold,  and  a  temperature  of  50°,  which  we  frequent- 
ly had  in  the  morning,  made  them  tremble  like  aspen  leaves, 
and  they  were  sometimes  so  benumbed  that  they  could  scarcely 
load  the  camels.  They  were  proud  of  their  enormous  heads 
of  hair,  which  they  wore  parted  on  both  temples,  the  middle 
portion  being  drawn  into  an  upright  mass,  six  inches  in  height, 
while  the  side  divisions  hung  over  the  ears  in  a  multitude  of 
little  twists.  These  love-locks  they  anointed  every  morning 
with  suet,  and  looked  as  if  they  had  slept  in  a  hard  frost,  until 
the  heat  had  melted  the  fat.  I  thought  to  flatter  one  of  them 
as  he  performed  the  operation,  by  exclaiming  "  Beautiful ! " — 
but  he  answered  coolly :  "  You  speak  truth  :  it  is  very  beauti- 
ful." Through  the  central  mass  of  hair  a  wooden  skewer  was 
stuck,  in  order  to  scratch  the  head  without  disturbing  the 
arrangement.  They  wore  long  swords,  carried  in  a  leathern 
scabbard  over  the  left  shoulder,  and  sometimes  favored  us  with 
a  war-dance,  which  consisted  merely  in  springing  into  the  air 
with  a  brandished  sword  and  turning  around  once  before  com- 
ing down.  Their  names  were  El  Emeem,  Hossayn  and  AIL 
We  called  the  latter  Shekh  Ali,  on  account  of  his  hair.  He 
wore  nothing  but  a  ragged  cotton  clout,  yet  owned  two  camels, 
had  a  tent  in  the  Desert,  and  gave  Achniet  a  bag  of  dollars  to 
carry  for  him.  I  gave  to  El  Emeem,  on  account  of  his  shrill 
voice,  the  nickname  of  Wiz  (wild  goose),  by  which  he  was 
thenceforth  called.  They  were  all  very  devout,  retiring  a  short 
distance  from  the  road  to  say  their  prayers,  at  the  usual  hours 
»nd  performing  the  prescribed  ablutions  with  sand,  instead  oi 


1 76  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

On  the  second  morning  we  passed  through  a  gorge  in  the 
black  hills,  and  entered  a  region  called  El  Biban,  or  "  The 
Gates."  Here  the  mountains,  though  still  grouped  in  the  sam<» 
disorder,  were  more  open  and  gave  room  to  plains  of  sand  sev- 
eral miles  in  length.  The  narrow  openings,  through  which  the 
road  passes  from  one  plain  to  another,  gave  rise  to  the  name 
The  mountains  are  higher  than  on  the  Nile,  and  present  the 
most  wonderful  configurations — towers,  fortresses,  walls,  pyra- 
mids, temples  in  ruin,  of  an  inky  blackness  near  at  hand,  but 
tinged  of  a  deep,  glowing  violet  hue  in  the  distance.  Towards 
noon  I  saw  a  mirage — a  lake  in  which  the  broken  peaks  were 
reflected  with  great  distinctness.  One  of  the  Nubians  who  was 
with  us,  pointed  out  a  spot  where  he  was  obliged  to  climb  the 
rocks,  the  previous  summer,  to  avoid  being  drowned.  During 
the  heavy  tropical  rains  which  sometimes  fall  here,  the  hun- 
dreds of  pyramidal  hills  pour  down  such  floods  that  the  sand 
cannot  immediately  drink  them  up,  and  the  valleys  are  turned 
into  lakes.  The  man  described  the  roaring  of  the  waters, 
down  the  clefts  of  the  rocks,  as  something  terrible.  In  sum 
mer  the  passage  of  the  Desert  is  much  more  arduous  than  in 
winter,  and  many  men  and  camels  perish.  The  road  was 
strewn  with  bones  and  carcasses,  and  I  frequently  counted  twen- 
ty dead  camels  within  a  stone's  throw.  The  stone-heaps  which 
are  seen  on  all  the  spurs  of  the  hills,  as  landmarks  for  cara- 
vans, have  become  useless,  since  one  could  find  his  way  by  the 
bones  in  the  sand.  My  guide,  who  was  a  great  believer  in 
afrites  and  devils,  said  that  formerly  many  persons  lost  tht 
way  and  perished  from  thirst,  all  of  which  was  the  work  of 
aril  spirits. 

My  next  camp  was  in  the  midst  of  a  high  circular  plain 


AN    UNEXPECTED    VISIT.  177 

lurrounded  by  hundreds  of  black  peaks.  Here  I  had  an  unex 
pected  visit.  I  was  sitting  in  my  tent,  about  eight  o  clock, 
when  I  heard  the  tramp  of  dromedaries  outside,  and  a  strange 
voice  saying  :  ana  waked  Ingleez  (I  am  an  Englishman).  It 
proved  to  be  Capt.  Peel,  of  the  British  Navy,  (son  of  the  late 
Sir  Robert  Peel),  who  was  returning  from  a  journey  to  Khar- 
toum and  Kordofan.  He  was  attended  by  a  single  guide,  and 
carried  only  a  water-skin  and  a  basket  of  bread.  He  had 
travelled  nearly  day  and  night  since  leaving  Berber,  and  would 
finish  the  journey  from  that  place  to  Korosko — a  distance  of 
four  hundred  miles — in  seven  days.  He  spent  an  hour  with 
me,  and  then  pushed  onward  through  "  The  Gates "  towards 
the  Nile.  It  had  been  his  intention  to  penetrate  into  Bar- 
Fur,  a  country  yet  unvisited  by  any  European,  but  on  reach- 
ing Obeid,  the  Capital  of  Kordofan,  his  companion,  a  Syrian 
Arab,  fell  sick,  and  he  was  himself  attacked  with  the  ague. 
This  decided  him  to  return,  and  he  bad  left  his  baggage  and 
servants  to  follow,  and  was  making  for  England  with  all  speed. 
He  was  provided  with  all  the  necessary  instruments  to  make 
his  travel  useful  in  a  scientific  point  of  view,  and  the  failure 
of  his  plans  is  much  to  be  regretted.  I  was  afterwards  inform- 
ed by  M.  Linant  that  he  met  Capt.  Peel  on  the  following  day, 
and  supplied  him  with  water  enough  to  reach  the  Nile. 

Towards  noon,  on  the  third  day,  we  passed  the  last  of  the 
"Gates,"  and  entered  the  BaTir  bela  Ma  (River  without 
Water),  a  broad  plain  of  burning  yellow  sand.  The  gateway 
is  very  imposing,  especially  on  the  eastern  side,  where  it  is 
Droken  by  a  valley  or  gorge  of  Tartarean  blackness.  As  we 
passed  the  last  peak,  my  guide,  who  had  ridden  in  advance 
dismounted  beside  what  seemed  *o  be  a  collection  of  graves — 
8* 


178  JOURNEV    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

little  ridgei?  of  sand,  with  rough  head  and  foot  stones.  He  sal 
by  one  which  he  had  just  made.  As  I  came  up  he  informed 
me  that  all  travellers  who  crossed  the  Nubian  Desert,  for  the 
first  time,  are  here  expected  to  pay  a  toll,  or  fee  to  the  guide 
and  camel  men.  "  But  what  if  I  do  not  choose  to  pay  ?  "  I 
asked  "  Then  you  will  immediately  perish,  and  be  buried 
here.  The  graves  are  those  of  persons  who  refused  to  pay.' 
As  I  had  no  wish  to  occupy  the  beautiful  mound  he  had  heap- 
ed for  me,  with  the  thigh-bones  of  a  camel  at  the  head  and 
foot,  I  gave  the  men  a  few  piastres,  and  passed  the  place.  He 
then  plucked  up  the  bones  and  threw  them  away,  and  restored 
the  sand  to  its  original  level.* 

The  Bdhr  bela  Ma  spread  out  before  us,  glittering  in  the 
hot  sun.  About  a  mile  to  the  eastward  lay  (apparently)  a  lake 
of  blue  water.  Reeds  and  water-plants  grew  on  its  margin, 
and  its  smooth  surface  reflected  the  rugged  outline  of  the  hills 
beyond.  The  Waterless  River  is  about  two  miles  in  breadth, 
and  appears  to  have  been  at  one  time  the  bed  of  a  large  stream. 

*  Burckhardt  gives  the  following  account  of  the  same  custom,  in  his 
travels  in  Nubia:  "In  two  hours  and  a  half  we  came  to  a  plain  on  the 
top  of  the  mountain  called  Akabet  el  Benat,  the  Rocks  of  the  Girls.  Here 
the  Arabs  who  serve  as  guides  through  these  mountains  have  devised  a 
singular  mode  of  extorting  presents  from  the  traveller ;  they  alight  at 
certain  spots  in  the  Akabet  el  Benat,  and  beg  a  present;  if  it  is  refused, 
they  collect  a  heap  of  sand,  and  mould  it  into  the  form  of  a  diminutive 
tomb,  and  then  placing  a  stone  at  each  of  the  extremities,  they  ap- 
prise the  traveller  that  his  tomb  is  made;  meaning,  that  henceforward, 
there  will  be  no  security  for  him,  in  this  rocky  wilderness.  Most  per- 
«ons  pay  a  trifling  contribution,  rather  than  have  their  graves  made  b& 
fore  their  eyes ;  there  were,  however,  several  tombs  of  this  description 
dispersed  over  the  plain." 


THK  KivKit  wrniorr  WATER.  179 

ft  crosses  all  the  caravan  routes  in  the  desert,  and  is  supposed 
to  extend  from  the  Nile  to  the  Red  Sea.  It  may  have  been 
the  outlet  for  the  river,  before  its  waters  forced  a  passage 
through  the  primitive  chains  which  cross  its  bed  at  Assouan 
and  Kalabshee.  A  geological  exploration  of  this  part  of  Afri- 
ca could  not  fail  to  produce  very  interesting  results.  Beyond 
the  Balir  bela  Ma  extends  the  broad  central  plateau  of  the 
Desert,  fifteen  hundred  feet  above  the  sea.  It  is  a  vast  reack 
of  yellow  sand,  dotted  with  low,  isolated  hills,  which  in  some 
places  are  based  on  large  beds  of  light-gray  sandstone  of  an 
unusually  fine  and  even  grain.  Small  towers  of  stone  have 
been  erected  on  the  hills  nearest  the  road,  in  order  to  guide 
the  couriers  who  travel  by  night.  Near  one  of  them  the  guide 
pointed  out  the  grave  of  a  merchant,  who  had  been  murdered 
there  two  years  previous,  by  his  three  slaves.  The  latter  es- 
caped into  the  Desert,  but  probably  perished,  as  they  were 
never  heard  of  afterwards.  In  the  smooth,  loose  sand,  I  had 
an  opportunity  of  reviving  my  forgotten  knowledge  of  track- 
ography,  and  soon  learned  to  distinguish  the  feet  of  hyenas, 
foxes,  ostriches,  lame  camels  and  other  animals.  The  guide 
assured  me  that  there  were  devils  in  the  Desert,  but  one  only 
sees  them  when  he  travels  alone. 

On  this  plain  the  mirage,  which  first  appeared  in  the  Biban, 
presented  itself  under  a  variety  of  wonderful  aspects.  Thence- 
forth, I  saw  it  every  day,  for  hours  together,  and  tried  to  de- 
duce some  rules  from  the  character  of  its  phenomena.  It 
appears  on  all  sides,  except  that  directly  opposite  to  the  sun,  but 
rarely  before  nine  A.  M.  or  after  three  p.  M.  The  color  of  the 
apparent  water  is  always  precisely  that  of  the  sky,  and  this  ig 
a  good  test  to  distinguish  it  from  real  water,  which  is  invari 


180  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

ably  of  a  deeper  hue.  It  is  seen  on  a  gravelly  as  well  as  i 
sandy  surface,  and  often  fills  with  shining  pools  the  slight  de- 
pressions in  the  soil  at  the  bases  of  the  hills.  Where  it  extends 
to  the  horizon  there  is  no  apparent  line,  and  it  then  becomes 
an  inlet  of  the  sky,  as  if  the  walls  of  heaven  were  melting  down 
and  flowing  in  upon  the  earth.  Sometimes  a  whole  mountain 
chain  is"  lifted  from  the  horizon  and  hung  in  the  air,  with  its 
reflected  image  joined  to  it,  base  to  base.  I  frequently  saw, 
during  the  forenoon,  lakes  of  sparkling  blue  water,  apparently 
not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant.  The  waves  ripple  in  the  wind; 
tall  reeds  and  water-plants  grow  on  the  margin,  and  the  Desert 
rocks  behind  cast  their  shadows  on  the  surface.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  believe  it  a  delusion.  You  advance  nearer,  and  sudden- 
ly, you  know  not  how,  the  lake  vanishes.  There  is  a  grayish 
film  over  the  spot,  but  before  you  have  decided  whether  the 
film  is  in  the  air  or  in  your  eyes,  that  too  disappear*,  and  you 
see  only  the  naked  sand.  What  you  took  to  be  reeds  and 
water-plants  probably  shows  itself  as  a  streak  of  dark  gravel. 
The  most  probable  explanation  of  the  mirage  which  I  could 
think  of,  was,  that  it  was  actually  a  reflection  of  the  sky  upon 
a  stratum  of  heated  air,  next  the  sand. 

I  found  the  Desert  life  not  only  endurable  but  very  agree- 
able. No  matter  how  warm  it  might  be  at  mid-day,  the  nighta 
were  always  fresh  and  cool,  and  the  wind  blew  strong  from  the 
north-west,  during  the  greater  part  of  the  time.  The  tempera- 
ture varied  from  50°— 55°  at  6  A.  M.  to  80U— 85°  at  2  p.  M. 
The  extremes  were  47°  and  100°.  So  great  a  change  of  tem» 
perature  every  day  was  not  so  unpleasant  as  might  be  suppos- 
ed. In  my  case,  Nature  seemed  to  make  a  special  provision 
'n  irder  to  keep  the  balance  right.  During  the  hot  hours  of 


LIFE    IN    THE    DESKRT.  181 

the  day  I  never  suffered  inconvenience  from  the  heat,  but  ur 
to  85°  felt  sufficiently  cool.  I  seemed  to  absorb  the  rays  of 
the  sun,  and  as  night  came  on  and  the  temperature  of  the  ail 
fell,  that  of  my  skin  rose,  till  at  last  I  glowed  through  and 
through,  like  a  live  coal.  It  was  a  peculiar  sensation,  which  I 
never  experienced  before,  but  was  rather  pleasant  than  other- 
wise. My  face,  however,  which  was  alternately  exposed  to  the 
heat  radiated  from  the  sand,  and  the  keen  morning  wind,  coul« 
not  accommodate  itself  to  so  much  contraction  and  expansion 
The  skin  cracked  and  peeled  off  more  than  once,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  rub  it  daily  with  butter.  I  mounted  my  dromedary 
with  a  "  shining  morning  face,"  until,  from  alternate  buttering 

and  burning,  it  attained  the  hue  and  crispness  of  a  well-basted 

• 
partridge. 

I  soon  fell  into  a  regular  daily  routine  of  travel,  which, 
during  all  my  later  experiences  of  the  Desert,  never  became 
monotonous.  I  rose  at  dawn  every  morning,  bathed  my  eyea 
with  a  handful  of  the  precious  water,  and  drank  a  cup  of 
coffee.  After  the  tent  had  been  struck  and  the  camels  laden, 
I  walked  aheat*  for  two  hours,  often  so  far  in  advance  that  I 
lost  sight  ana  nearing  of  the  caravan.  I  found  an  unspeak- 
able fascination  in  the  sublime  solitude  of  the  Desert.  I  often 
beheld  the  sun  rise,  when,  within  the  wide  ring  of  the  horizon 
there  was  no  other  living  creature  to  be  seen.  He  came  up 
like  a  god,  in  awful  glory,  and  it  would  have  been  a  natural 
act,  had  I  cast  myself  upon  the  sand  and  worshipped  him. 
The  sudden  change  in  the  coloring  of  the  landscape,  on  his  ap- 
pearance— the  lighting  up  of  the  dull  sand  into  a  warm  golden 
hue,  and  the  tintings  of  purple  and  violet  on  the  distant  por- 
phyry hilla — was  a  morning  miracle,  which  I  never  beheld 


182  JOURNET    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

without  awe.  The  richness  of  this  coloring  made  the  Desert 
beautiful ;  it  was  too  brilliant  for  desolation.  The  scenery,  sc 
far  from  depressing,  inspired  and  exhilarated  me.  I  never 
felt  the  sensation  of  physical  health  and  strength  in  such  per 
fection,  and  was  ready  to  shout  from  morning  till  night,  from 
the  overflow  of  happy  spirits.  The  air  is  an  elixir  of  life — as 
sweet  and  pure  and  refreshing  as  that  which  the  first  Man 
breathed,  on  the  morning  of  Creation.  You  inhale  the  una- 
dulterated elements  of  the  atmosphere,  for  there  are  no  exha- 
lations from  moist  earth,  vegetable  matter,  or  the  smokes  and 
steams  which  arise  from  the  abodes  of  men,  to  stain  its  purity 
This  air,  even  more  than  its  silence  and  solitude,  is  the  secret 
of  one's  attachment  to  the  Desert.  It  is  a  beautiful  illustra- 
tion of  the  compensating  care  of  that  Providence,  which  leaves 
none  of  the  waste  places  of  the  earth  without  some  atoning 
glory.  Where  all  the  pleasant  aspects  of  Nature  are  wanting 
— where  there  is  no  green  thing,  no  fount  for  the  thirsty  lip, 
scarcely  the  shadow  of  a  rock  to  shield  the  wanderer  in  the 
blazing  noon — God  has  breathed  upon  the  wilderness  his 
sweetest  and  tenderest  breath,  giving  clearness  to  the  eye, 
strength  to  the  frame,  and  the  most  joyous  exhilaration  to  the 
spirits. 

Achmet  always  insisted  on  my  taking  a  sabre  as  a  protec- 
tion against  the  hyenas,  but  I  was  never  so  fortunate  as  to  see 
more  than  their  tracks,  which  crossed  the  path  at  every  step. 
[  saw  occasionally  the  footprints  of  ostriches,  but  they,  as  well 
as  the  giraffe,  are  scarce  in  this  Desert.  Towards  noon,  Ach« 
met  and  I  made  a  halt  in  the  shadow  of  a  rock,  or  if  no  rock 
was  at  hand,  on  the  bare  sand,  and  took  our  breakfast.  One's 
daily  bread  is  never  sweeter  than  in  the  Desert.  The  rest  of 


DESERT  SCENERY.  lod 

the  day  I  jogged  along  patiently  beside  the  baggage  camels, 
and  at  sunset  halted  for  the  night.  A  divan  on  the  sand,  and 
a  well-filled  pipe,  gave  me  patience  while  dinner  was  prepar- 
ing, and  afterwards  I  made  the  necessary  entries  in  my  jour- 
nal. I  had  no  need  to  court  sleep,  after  being  rocked  all  day 
on  the  dromedary. 

At  the  close  of  the  third  day,  we  encamped  opposite  a 
mountain  which  Eyoub  called  Djebel  Khattab  (the  Mountain 
of  Wood).  The  Bahr  Khattab,  a  river  of  sand,  similar  to 
the  Bahr  bela  Ma,  and  probably  a  branch  of  it,  crossed  our 
path.  I  here  discovered  that  the  water-skins  I  had  hired 
from  Shekh  Abou-Mohammed  were  leaky,  and  that  our  eight 
skins  were  already  reduced  to  four,  while  the  Arabs  had  en- 
tirely exhausted  their  supply.  This  rendered  strict  economy 
necessary,  as  there  was  but  a  single  well  on  the  road.  Until 
noon  the  next  day  we  journeyed  over  a  vast  plain  of  sand,  in- 
terrupted by  low  reefs  of  black  rock.  To  the  south-east  it 
stretched  unbroken  to  the  sky,  and  looking  in  that  direction, 
I  saw  two  hemispheres  of  yellow  and  blue,  sparkling  all  over 
with  light  and  heat,  so  that  the  eye  winked  to  behold  them 
The  colocynth  (called  by  the  Arabs  murrdr),  grew  in  many 
places  in  the  dry,  hot  sand.  The  fruit  resembles  a  melon,  and 
is  TO  intensely  bitter  that  no  animal  will  eat  it.  I  made 
breakfast  under  the  lee  of  an  isolated  rock,  crowned  with  a 
beacon  of  camel-bones.  We  here  met  three  Ababdehs,  armed 
with  long  spears,  on  their  way  to  Korosko.  Soon  after  mid- 
day the  plain  was  broken  by  low  ranges  of  hills,  and  we  saw  in 
front  and  to  the  east  of  us  many  blue  mountain-chains.  Our 
•md  approached  one  of  them — a  range,  several  miles  in  length, 
the  highest  peak  of  which  reached  an  altitude  of  a  thousand 


184  JOURNE7   TO    CENTRAL   AVRtCA. 

feet.  The  sides  were  precipitous  and  formed  of  vertical  strata 
but  the  crests  were  agglomerations  of  loose  stones,  as  if  shaken 
out  of  some  enormous  coal-scuttle.  The  glens  and  gorges  were 
black  as  ink ;  no  speck  of  any  other  color  relieved  the  terrible 
gloom  of  this  singular  group  of  hills.  Their  aspect  was  much 
more  than  sterile :  it  was  infernal.  The  name  given  to  them 
by  the  guide  was  Djilet  e1  Djindee,  the  meaning  of  which  I 
could  not  learn.  At  their  foot  I  found  a  few  thorny  shrubs,, 
the  first  sign  of  vegetation  since  leaving  Korosko. 

We  encamped  half  an  hour  before  sunset  on  a  gravelly 
plain,  between  two  spurs  of  the  savage  hills,  in  order  that  our 
camels  might  browse  on  the  shrubs,  and  they  were  only  too 
ready  to  take  advantage  of  the  permission.  They  snapped  off 
the  hard,  dry  twigs,  studded  with  cruel  thorns,  and  devoured 
them  as  if  their  tongues  were  made  of  cast-iron.  We  were 
now  in  the  haunts  of  the  gazelle  and  the  ostrich,  but  saw 
nothing  of  them.  Shekh  AH  taught  me  a  few  words  of  the 
Bisharee  language,  asking  for  the  English  words  in  return, 
and  was  greatly  delighted  when  I  translated  okam  (camel), 
into  "  0  camel  1 "  "  Wallah  ! "  said  he,  "  your  language  is 
the  same  as  ours."  The  Bisharee  tongue  abounds  with 
vowels,  and  is  not  unmusical.  Many  of  the  substantives  com- 
mence with  o — as  omek,  a  donkey ;  osha,  a  cow  ;  ogana,  a  ga- 
zelle. The  plural  changes  o  into  a,  as  akam,  camels ;  amek, 
donkeys,  &c.  The  language  of  the  Ababdehs  is  different  from 
that  of  the  Bisharees,  but  probably  sprang  from  the  same 
original  stock.  Lepsius  considers  that  the  Kenoos  dialect  of 
Nubia  is  an  original  African  tongue,  having  no  affinity  with 
any  of  the  Shemitic  languages. 

On  the  fifth  day  we  left  the  plain,  and  entered  a  country 


THE    WELLS    OF    MURR-HAT.  185 

of  broken  mountain-ranges.  In  one  place  the  road  passed 
through  a  long,  low  hill  of  slate  rock,  by  a  gap  which  had  beer 
purposely  broken.  The  strata  were  vertical,  the  laminae  vary 
ing  from  one  to  four  inches  in  thickness,  and  of  as  fine  a  quali- 
ty and  smooth  a  surface  as  I  ever  saw.  A  long  wady,  or  val 
ley,  which  appeared  to  be  the  outlet  of  some  mountain-basin, 
was  crossed  by  a  double  row  of  stunted  doum-palms,  marking 
a  water-course  made  by  the  summer  rains.  Eyoub  pointed  it 
out  to  me,  as  the  half-way  station  between  Korosko  and  Abou- 
Hammed.  For  two  hours  longer  we  threaded  the  dry  wadys. 
shut  in  by  black,  chaotic  hills.  It  was  now  noonday,  I  was 
very  hungry,  and  the  time  allotted  by  Eyoub  for  reaching  Bit 
Murr-lint  had  passed.  He  saw  my  impatience  and  urged  hie 
dromedary  into  a  trot,  calling  out  to  me  to  follow  him.  We 
bent  to  the  west,  turned  the  flank  of  a  high  range,  and  after 
half  an  hour's  steady  trotting,  reached  a  side-valley  or  cul-de- 
sac,  branching  off  from  the  main  wady.  A  herd  of  loose 
camels,  a  few  goats,  two  black  camel's-hair  tents,  and  half  a 
dozen  half-naked  Ababdehs,  showed  that  we  had  reached  the 
wells.  A  few  shallow  pits,  dug  in  the  centre  of  the  valley,  fur- 
nished an  abundance  of  bitter,  greenish  water,  which  the 
oaiuels  drank,  but  which  I  could  not  drink.  The  wells  are 
called  by  the  Arabs  el  morra,  "  the  bitter."  Fortunately,  I 
had  two  skins  of  Nile-water  left,  which,  with  care,  would  last 
to  Abou-Hammed.  The  water  was  always  cool  and  fresh, 
though  in  color  and  taste  it  resembled  a  decoction  of  old  shoes. 
\Ve  found  at  the  wells  Capt.  Peel's  Syrian  friend,  Churi 
who  was  on  his  way  to  Korosko  with  five  camels,  carrying  the 
Captain's  baggage.  He  left  immediately  after  my  arrival,  or 
I  might  have  sent  by  him  a  Christmas  greeting  to  friends  at 


186 


JOTJENBY   TO   OBKTRAt   AFRICA. 


home.  During  the  afternoon  three  slave-merchants  anived,  in 
four  days  from  Abou-IIammed.  Their  caravan  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  slaves  was  on  the  way.  They  were  tall,  strong,  hand- 
eorae  men,  dark-brown  in  complexion,  but  with  regular  fea- 


. 
The  Wells  of  Murr-Hat. 

tures.  They  were  greatly  pleased  with  my  sketch-book,  but 
retreated  hastily  when  I  proposed  making  a  drawing  of  them. 
I  then  called  Eyoub  into  my  tent,  who  willingly  enough  sat 
for  the  rough  sketch  which  heads  this  chapter.  Achinet  did 
his  best  to  give  me  a  good  Christmas  dinner,  but  the  pigeon? 
were  all  gone,  and  the  few  fowls  which  remained  were  so  spirit- 
less from  the  heat  and  jolting  of  the  camel,  that  their  slaugh- 
.,er  anticipated  their  natural  death  by  a  very  short  time. 
Nevertheless,  I  produced  a  cheery  illumination  by  the  tent- 
lanterns,  and  made  Eyoub  and  the  Bisharees  happy  with  a 
bottle  of  arakee  and  some  handfulls  of  tobacco  The  wind 


MEETING     CARAVANS.  187 

whistled  drearily  around  my  tent,  but  I  glowed  like  fire  from 
the  ooziug  out  of  the  heat  1  had  absorbed,  and  the  Arabs  witk 
out,  squatted  around  their  fire  of  camel's  dung,  sang  the  wild 
monotonous  songs  of  the  Desert. 

We  left  Murr-hat  at  sunrise,  on  the  morning  of  the  sixth 
day.  I  walked  ahead,  through  the  foldings  of  the  black  moun- 
tains, singing  as  I  went,  from  the  inspiration  of  the  brilliant 
sky  and  the  pure  air.  In  an  hour  and  a  half  the  pass  opened 
on  a  broad  jJaiii  of  sand,  and  I  waited  for  my  caravan,  as  the 
day  was  growing  hot.  On  either  side,  as  we  continued  our 
journey,  the  blue  lakes  of  the  mirage  glittered  in  the  sun. 
Several  isolated  pyramids  rose  above  the  horizon,  far  to  the 
Mast,  and  a  purple  mountain-range  in  front,  apparently  two  or 
three  hours  distant,  stretched  from  east  to  west.  "  We  will 
breakfast  in  the  shade  of  those  mountains,"  I  said  to  Achmet, 
but  breakfast-time  came  and  they  seemed  no  nearer,  so  I  sat 
down  in  the  sand  and  made  my  meal.  Towards  noon  we  met 
large  caravans  of  camels,  coming  from  Berber.  Some  were 
laden  with  gum,  but  the  greater  part  were  without  burdens,  as 
they  were  to  be  sold  in  Egypt.  In  the  course  of  the  day  up- 
wards of  a  thousand  passed  us.  Among  the  persons  we  met 
was  Capt.  Peel's  cawass,  or  janissary  (whom  he  had  left  hi 
Khartoum),  on  his  return,  with  five  camels  and  three  slaves, 
which  he  had  purchased  on  speculation.  He  gave  such  a  dis- 
mal account  of  Soudan,  that  Achmet  was  quite  gloomy  for  the 
r  3st  of  the  day 

The  afternoon  was  intensely  hot,  the  thermometer  standing 
at  100°,  but  I  felt  little  annoyance  from  the  heat,  and  used  no 
protection  against  it  The  sand  was  deep  and  the  road  a  wea- 
ry one  for  the  camels,  but  the  mountains  which  seemed  so  near 


188  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

at  hand  in  the  morning  were  not  yet  reached.  We  pushed  for 
ward  ;  the  sun  went  down,  and  the  twilight  was  over  before  wfl 
encamped  at  their  base.  The  tent  was  pitched  by  the  light  of 
the  crescent  moon,  which  hung  over  a  pitchy-black  peak.  I 
had  dinner  at  the  fashionable  hour  of  seven.  Achmet  waa 
obliged  to  make  soup  of  the  water  of  Murr-hat,  which  had  an 
abominable  taste.  I  was  so  drowsy  that  before  my  pipe  was 
finished,  I  tumbled  upon  my  mattress,  and  was  unconscious 
until  midnight,  when  I  awoke  with  the  sensation  of  swimming 
in  a  river  of  lava.  Eyoub  called  the  mountain  Kdb  el  Kafasa 
— an  absurd  name,  without  meaning — but  I  suspect  it  is  the 
same  ridge  which  crosses  the  caravan  route  from  Shendy  to 
Assouan,  and  which  is  called  Djebel  Shigre  by  Bruce  and 
Burckhardt. 

The  tent  was  struck  in  the  morning  starlight,  at  which 
time  the  thermometer  stood  at  55°.  I  walked  alone  through 
the  mountains,  which  rose  in  conical  peaks  to  the  height  of 
near  a  thousand  feet.  The  path  was  rough  and  stony  until  I 
reached  the  outlet  of  the  pass.  When  the  caravan  came  up,  1 
found  that  the  post-courier  who  left  Korosko  two  days  after 
us,  had  joined  it.  He  was  a  jet-black,  bare-headed  and  bare- 
legged Bisharee,  mounted  on  a  dromedary.  He  remained  with 
us  all  day,  and  liked  our  company  so  well  that  he  encamped 
with  us,  in  preference  to  continuing  his  journey.  On  leaving 
the  mountain,  we  entered  a  plain  of  coarse  grarel,  abounding 
with  pebbles  of  agate  and  jasper.  Another  range,  which 
Eyoub  called  Djebel  Dighlee,  appeared  in  front,  and  we  reach- 
ed it  about  noon.  The  day  was  again  hot,  the  mercury  rising 
to  95°.  It  took  us  nearly  an  hour  to  pass  Djebel  Dighlee, 
beyond  which  the  plain  stretched  away  to  the  Nile,  interrupt- 


THE    MOUNTAIN    OF    MOKRAT.  189 

ed  here  and  there  by  a  distant  peak.  Far  in  advance  of  as  lay 
Djebel  MokrAt,  the  limit  of  the  next  day's  journey.  From  its 
top,  said  Eyoub,  one  may  see  the  palui-groves  along  the  Nile. 
We  encamped  on  the  open  plain,  not  far  from  two  black  pyra- 
midal hills,  iu  the  flush  of  a  superb  sunset.  The  ground  was 
traversed  by  broad  strata  of  gray  granite,  which  lay  on  the 
surface  iu  huge  boulders.  Our  camels  here  found  a  few  bunch- 
es of  dry,  yellow  grass,  which  had  pierced  the  gravelly  soil 
To  the  south-east  was  a  mountain  called  by  the  Arabs  Djebel 
Nogura  (the  Mountain  of  the  Drum),  because,  as  Eyoub  de- 
clared, a  devil  who  had  his  residence  among  its  rocks,  frequent- 
ly beat  a  drum  at  night,  to  scare  the  passing  caravans. 

The  stars  were  sparkling  freshly  and  clearly  when  I  rosfj, 
on  the  morning  of  the  eighth  day,  and  Djebel  Mokrat  lay  like 
a  faint  shadow  on  the  southern  horizon.  The  sun  revealed  a 
few  isolated  peaks  to  the  right  and  left,  but  merely  distant 
isles  on  the  vast,  smooth  ocean  of  the  Desert.  It  was  a  rap- 
ture to  breathe  air  of  such  transcendent  purity  and  sweetness. 
I  breakfasted  on  the  immense  floor,  sitting  in  the  sun,  and  then 
jogged  on  all  day,  in  a  heat  of  90°,  towards  Djebel  Mokrat, 
which  seemed  as  far  off  as  ever.  The  sun  went  down,  and  it 
was  still  ahead  of  us.  "  That  is  a  Djebel  Shaytan"  I  said  to 
Eyoub ;  "  or  rather,  it  is  no  mountain  ;  it  is  an  afrite."  "  0 
ESendi ! "  said  the  old  man,  "  don't  speak  of  afrites  here. 
There  are  many  in  this  part  of  the  Desert,  and  if  a  man  travels 
aloue  here  at  night,  one  of  them  walks  behind  him  and  forces 
him  to  go  forward  and  forward,  until  he  has  lost  his  path." 
We  rode  on  by  the  light  of  the  moon  and  stars — silently  at 
first,  but  presently  Shekh  Ali  began  to  sing  his  favorite  song 
of  "  Yallah  saJadmeh,  el-hamdu  lilldhfok  belameh,"  and  one 


100  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

of  the  Kenoos,  to  beguile  the  way,  recited  in  a  chanting  tone. 
copious  passages  from  the  Koran.  Among  other  things,  he 
related  the  history  of  Joseph,  which  Achmet  translated  to  me. 
The  whole  story  would  be  too  long  to  repeat,  but  portions  of  it 
are  interesting. 

"  After  Joseph  had  been  thrown  into  the  well,"  continued 
the  Kenoos,  "  a  caravan  of  Arabs  came  along,  and  began  to 
draw  water  for  the  camels,  when  one  of  the  men  said :  '  0 
Shekh,  there  is  something  in  the  well.'  'Well,'  said  the  Shekh, 
'  if  it  be  a  man,  he  belongs  to  me,  but  if  it  be  goods,  you  may 
have  them.'  So  they  drew  it  up,  and  it  was  Joseph,  and  the 
Shekh  took  him  to  Cairo  and  sold  him  to  Azeez  (Potiphar). 
II  omit  his  account  of  Potiphar's  wife,  which  could  not  well  be 
repeated.]  When  Joseph  was  in  prison,  he  told  what  was  tht 
meaning  of  the  dreams  of  Sultan  Faraoon's  baker  and  butler, 
who  were  imprisoned  with  him.  The  Sultdn  himself  soon 
afterwards  had  a  dream  about  seven  fat  cows  eating  seven  lean 
ones,  which  nobody  could  explain.  Then  the  jailer  went  to 
Faraoon,  and  said  :  '  Here  is  Joseph,  in  jail — he  can  tell  you 
all  about  it.'  Faraoon  said  :  'Bring  him  here,  then.'  So  they 
put  Joseph  in  a  bath,  washed  him,  shaved  his  head/  gave  him 
H  new  white  turban,  and  took  him  to  the  Sultan,  who  said  to 
him  :  '  Can  you  explain  my  dream  ? '  '  To  be  sure  I  can,'  said 
Joseph,  '  but  if  I  tell  you,  you  must  make  me  keeper  of  youi 
magazines.'  '  Very  well : '  said  Faraoon.  Then  Joseph  told 
how  the  seven  fat  cows  meant  seven  years  when  the  Nile  would 
have  two  inundations  a  year,  and  the  seven  lean  cows,  seven 
years  afterwards  when  it  would  have  no  inundation  at  all ;  and 
he  said  to  Faraoon  that  since  he  was  now  magazine-keeper,  he 
should  take  from  all  the  country  as  far  as  Assouan,  during  the 


THB    I.AHT    DA       IN    THE    DESERT.  101 

seven  fat  years,  enough  wheat  and  dourra  and  beans,  to  last 
during  the  seven  lean  ones."  The  narrator  might  have 
added  that  the  breed  of  fat  kine  has  never  been  restored,  all 
the  cattle  of  Egypt  being  undoubted  descendants  of  the  leau 
stock. 

Two  hours  after  sunset,  we  killed  Djebel  Mokrat,  as  the 
Arabs  say  :  that  is,  turned  its  corner.  The  weary  camels  were 
let  loose  among  some  clumps  of  dry,  rustling  reeds,  and  I 
stretched  myself  out  on  the  sand,  after  twelve  hours  in  the 
saddle.  Our  water  was  nearly  exhausted  by  this  time,  and 
the  provisions  were  reduced  to  hermits'  fare — bread,  rice  and 
dates.  I  had,  however,  the  spice  of  a  savage  appetite,  which 
was  no  sooner  appeased,  than  I  fell  into  a  profound  sleep.  I 
could  not  but  admire  the  indomitable  pluck  of  the  little  don- 
keys owned  by  the  Kenoos.  These  animals  not  only  carried 
provisions  and  water  for  themselves  and  their  masters,  the 
whole  distance,  but  the  latter  rode  them  the  greater  part  of  the 
way ;  yet  they  kept  up  with  the  camels,  plying  their  little  legs 
as  ambitiously  the  last  day  as  the  first.  I  doubt  whether  a 
horse  would  have  accomplished  as  much  under  similar  circum- 
stances. 

The  next  morning  we  started  joyfully,  in  hope  of  seeing 
the  Nile,  and  even  Eyoub,  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  Ko- 
rosko,  helped  to  load  the  camels.  In  an  hour  we  passed  the 
mountain  of  Mokrat,  but  the  same  endless  plain  of  yellow 
gravel  extended  before  us  to  the  hoiizon.  Eyoub  had  promised 
ihat  we  should  reach  Abou-Hammed  in  half  a  day,  and  even 
pointed  out  some  distant  blue  mountains  in  the  south,  as  being 
beyond  the  Nile.  Nevertheless,  we  travelled  nearly  till  noon 
without  any  change  of  scenery,  and  no  more  appearance  of  river 


192  JOCRNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

than  the  abundant  streams  of  the  mirage,  on  all  sides.  I  drank 
my  last  cup  of  water  for  breakfast,  and  then  continued  my  march 
in  the  burning  sun,  with  rather  dismal  spirits.  Finally,  the 
Desert,  which  had  been  rising  since  we  left  the  mountain,  be- 
gan to  descend,  and  I  saw  something  like  round  granite  bould- 
ers lying  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon.  "  Eflendi,  see  the  doum- 
trees !  "  cried  Eyoub.  I  looked  again  :  they  were  doum-palms, 
and  so  broad  and  green  that  they  must  certainly  stand  near 
water.  Soon  we  descended  into  a  hollow  in  the  plain,  looking 
down  which  I  saw  to  the  south  a  thick  grove  of  trees,  and  over 
their  tops  the  shining  surface  of  the  Nile.  "All,"  I  called  to 
my  sailor-servant,  "  look  at  that  great  bahr  shaytan  !  "  The 
son  of  the  Nile,  who  had  never  before,  in  all  his  life,  been  more 
than  a  day  out  of  sight  of  its  current,  was  almost  beside  him- 
self with  joy.  "Wallah,  master,"  he  cried,  "that  is  no  river 
of  the  Devil :  it  is  the  real  Nile — the  water  of  Paradise."  It 
did  my  heart  good  to  see  his  extravagant  delight.  u  If  you 
were  to  give  me  five  piastres,  master,"  said  he,  "  I  would  not 
drink  the  bitter  water  of  Murr-hat."  The  guide  made  me  a 
salutation,  in  his  dry  way,  and  the  two  Nubians  greeted  me 
with  "  a  great  welcome  to  you,  0,  Effendi !  "  With  every  step 
the  valley  unfolded  before  me — such  rich  deeps  of  fanLkc  foli- 
age, such  a  glory  in  the  green  of  the  beans  and  lupins,  such 
radiance  beyond  description  in  the  dance  of  the  sunbeams  on 
the  water  !  The  landscape  was  balm  to  my  burning  eyes,  and 
the  mere  sight  of  the  glorious  green  herbage  was  a  sensuous 
iu  which  I  rioted  for  the  rest  of  the  day 


Tbc  Tent-Door,  at  Abuu-Uamracd. 

CHAPTER    XV. 


THE     ETHIOPIAN     FRONTIER. 

A  Draught  of  Water— Abou-Hammed — The  Island  of  Mokrtit— Ethiopian  Scenery— 
The  People — An  Ababdeh  Apollo — Encampment  on  the  Nile — Tomb  of  an  English 
man— Eesa's  Wedding— A  White  Arab — The  Last  Day  of  the  Year— Abou-Hashym 
— Incidents— Loss  of  my  Thermometer— The  Valley  of  Wild  Asses— The  Eleventh 
Cataract— Approach  to  Berber—  Vultures— Eyoub  Outwitted— We  reach  El  Mek- 
heyref— The  Caravan  Broken  up. 

ACHMET  and  I  began  to  feel  thirst,  so  we  hurried  on  in  ad- 
vance, to  the  mud  hamlet  of  Abou-Hammed.  We  dismounted 
on  the  bank  of  the  river,  where  we  were  received  by  a  dark 
Ababdeh,  who  was  officiating  in  place  of  the  Governor,  and  in- 
vited me  to  take  possession  of  the  hitter's  house.  Achmet 
gave  him  a  large  wooden  bowl  and  told  him  to  fill  it  from  the 
Nile,  and  we  would  talk  to  him  afterwards.  I  shall  never  for- 
9 


194  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

get  the  luxury  of  that  long,  deep  draught.  My  body  a  jaorbed 
the  water  as  rapidly  as  the  hot  sand  of  the  Desert,  and  I  drank 
at  least  a  quart  without  feeling  satisfied.  I  preferred  my  tent 
to  the  Governor's  house,  and  had  it  pitched  where  I  could  look 
out  on  the  river  and  the  palms.  Abou-Hammed  is  a  miserable 
village,  inhabited  by  a  few  hundred  Ababdehs  and  Bisharees ; 
the  Desert  here  extended  to  the  water's  edge,  while  the  oppo- 
site banks  were  as  green  as  emerald.  There  was  a  large  mud 
fortress,  with  round  bastions  at  the  corners,  to  the  west  of  the 
village.  It  formerly  belonged  to  an  Ababdeh  Shekh,  but  was 
then  deserted. 

In  the  afternoon  I  crossed  to  the  island  of  Mokrat,  which 
lies  opposite.  The  vessel  was  a  sort  of  a  canoe,  made  of  pieces 
of  the  doum-palm,  tied  together  with  ropes  and  plastered  with 
mud.  My  oarsmen  were  two  boys  of  fifteen,  half-naked  fellows 
with  long,  wild  hair,  yet  very  strong  and  symmetrical  limbs 
and  handsome  features.  I  landed  in  the  shade  of  the 
palms,  and  walked  for  half  an  hour  along  the  shore,  through 
patches  of  dourra  and  cotton,  watered  by  the  creaking  mills. 
The  whole  island,  which  is  upwards  of  twenty  miles  long,  is 
level  and  might  be  made  "productive,  but  the  natives  only  cul- 
tivate a  narrow  strip  along  the  water.  The  trees  were  doum 
and  date  palm  and  acacia,  and  I  saw  in  the  distance  others  of 
a  rich,  dark  green,  which  appeared  to  be  sycamore.  The  hip- 
popotamus is  found  here,  and  the  boatmen  showed  me  the 
enormous  tracks  of  three,  which  had  made  havoc  among  their 
bean-patches  the  day  before.  As  I  was  returning  to  the  boat 
1  met  three  natives,  tall,  strong,  stately  men.  I  greeted  them 
with  "  Peace  be  with  you ! "  and  they  answered  "  Peace  be 
wit'i  you,"  at  the  same  time  offering  their  hands.  We  talked 
fiv  iome  time  in  broken  Arabic,  and  I  have  rarely  seen  such 


AIIOL'-IIAMMKD.  195 

good-will  expressed  in  savage  features.  In  fact,  all  the  faces  I 
now  saw  were  of  a  superior  stamp  to  that  of  the  Egyptians. 
They  expressed  not  only  more  strength  and  independence,  but 
more  kindness  and  gentleness. 

I  procured  a  lean  sheep  for  eight  piastres,  and  after  Ach- 
met  had  chosen  the  best  parts  for  my  dinner,  I  gave  the  re- 
mainder In  Eyoub  and  the  Bisharees.  The  camels  were  driven 
down  to  thi  river,  but  only  three  drank  out  of  the  six.  I  took 
my  seal  in  the  shade  of  the  tent,  and  looked  at  the  broad  blue 
current  of  the  Nile  for  hours,  without  being  \\t-aried  of  the 
Bcene.  Groups  of  tall  Bisharees  stood  at  a  respectable  dis- 
tance, gazing  upon  me,  for  a  Frank  traveller  was  no  common 
Bight.  In  the  evening  I  attempted  to  reduce  my  de.-ert  tem- 
perature by  a  bath  in  the  river,  but  I  had  become  so  sensitive 
to  cold  that  the  water  made  me  shudder  in  every  nerve,  and  it 
required  a  double  portion  of  pipes  and  coffee  to  restore  my 
natural  warmth. 

I  left  Abou-Hammed  at  noon  the  next  day,  having  been 
detained  by  some  government  tax  on  camels,  which  my  Bishli- 
rees  were  called  upon  to  pay.  Our  road  followed  the  river,  occa- 
sionally taking  to  the  Desert  for  a  short  distance,  to  cut  off  a 
bend,  but  never  losing  sight  of  the  dark  clumps  of  palms  and 
the  vivid  coloring  of  the  grain  on  the  western  bank.  The 
scenery  bore  a  very  different  stamp  from  that  of  Egypt.  The 
colors  were  darker,  richer  and  stronger,  the  light  more  intense 
and  glowing,  and  all  forms  of  vegetable  and  animal  life  pene- 
trated  with  a  more  full  and  impassioned  expression  of  life. 
The  green  of  the  fields  actually  seemed  to  throb  under  the 
6ery  gusli  of  sunshine,  and  the  palm-leaves  to  thrill  and  trem- 
ble  it  the  hot  blue  air.  The  people  were  glorious  barbarians— 


194  JOURNEY   TO    CHNTUAL   AFltlCA. 

large,  tall,  full-limbed,  with  open,  warm,  intelligent  faces  and 
lustrous  black  eyes.  They  dress  with  more  neatness  than  the 
Egyptian  Fellahs,  and  their  longhair,  though  profusely  smeared 
with  suet,  is  arranged  with  some  taste  and  clothes  their 
heads  better  than  the  dirty  cotton  skull-cap.  Among  those  1 
saw  at  Abou-Hammed  were  two  youths  of  about  seventeen, 
who  were  wonderfully  beautiful.  One  of  them  played  a  sort 
of  coarse  reed  flute,  and  the  other  a  rude  stringed  instrument, 
which  he  called  a  tambour.  He  was  a  superb  fellow,  with  the 
purest  straight  Egyptian  features,  and  large,  brilliant,  melting 
black  eyes.  Every  posture  of  his  body  expressed  a  grace  the 
most  striking  because  it  was  wholly  unstudied.  I  have  never 
seen  human  forms  superior  to  these  two.  The  first,  whom  I 
named  the  Apollo  Ababdese,  joined  my  caravan,  for  the  jour- 
ney to  Berber.  He  carried  with  him  all  his  wealth — a  flute,  a 
Bword,  and  a  heavy  shield  of  hippopotamus  hide.  His  features 
were  as  perfectly  regular  as  the  Greek,  but  softer  and  rounder 
in  outline.  His  limbs  were  without  a  fault,  and  the  light  poise 
of  his  head  on  the  slender  neck,  the  fine  play  of  his  shoulder- 
blades  and  the  muscles  of  his  back,  as  he  walked  before  me, 
wearing  only  a  narrow  cloth  around  his  loins,  would  have 
charmed  a  sculptor's  eye.  He  walked  among  my  camel-driv- 
ers as  Apollo  might  have  walked  among  the  other  shepherds 
of  King  Admetus.  Like  the  god,  his  implement  was  the  flute  ; 
he  was  a  wandering  minstrel,  and  earned  his  livelihood  by  play- 
ing at  the  festivals  of  the  Ababdehs.  His  name  was  Eesa,  the 
Arabic  for  Jesus.  I  should  have  been  willing  to  take  several 
shades  of  his  complexion  if  I  could  have  had  with  them  his 
perfect  ripeness,  roundness  and  symmetry  >f  body  and  limb 
He  told  me  that  he  smoked  no  tobacco  and  drank  uo  ara 


ENCAMPMENT   ON   THE  NILE.  197 

kee,  but  only  water  and  milk  —  a  true  offshoot  of  the  golder 


Abebdeh  Flute  and  Tambour  Player*. 

We  encamped  for  the  night  in  a  cluster  of  doum-palms 
near  the  Nile.  The  soil,  even  to  the  edge  of  the  millet-patchea 
which  covered  the  bank,  was  a  loose  white  sand,  and  shone 
like  snow  under  the  moon,  while  the  doura-leaves  rustled  with 
as  dry  and  sharp  a  sound  as  bare  boughs  under  a  northern  sky. 
The  wind  blew  fresh,  but  we  were  sheltered  by  a  little  rise  of 
land,  and  the  tent  stood  firm.  The  temperature  (72°)  wa8 
delicious  ;  the  stars  sparkled  radiantly,  and  the  song  of  crickets 
among  the  millet  reminded  me  of  home.  No  sooner  had  we. 
encamped  than  Eesa  ran  off  to  some  huts  which  he  spied  in 
the  distance,  and  told  the  natives  that  they  must  immediately 
bring  all  their  sheep  and  fowls  to  the  EffendL  The  poor  peo- 
ple came  to  inquire  whether  they  must  part  with  their  stock, 
and  were  very  glad  when  they  found  that  we  wanted  nothing. 
I  took  only  two  cucumbers  which  an  old  man  brought  and 
humbly  placed  at  my  feet. 


198  JOUUNKY   TO    CENTRAI     AFRICA. 

The  next  morning  I  walked  ahead,  ollowing  the  river  bank 
but  the  camels  took  a  shorter  road  through  the  Desert,  and 
passed  me  unobserved.  After  walking  two  hours,  I  sought  for 
them  in  every  direction,  and  finally  came  upon  Ali,  who  was 
doing  his  best  to  hold  my  dromedary  down.  No  sooner  had  ] 
straddled  the  beast  than  he  rose  and  set  off  on  a  swinging  gal- 
lop to  rejoin  the  caravan.  During  the  day  our  road  led  along 
the  edge  of  the  Desert,  sometimes  in  the  sand  and  sometimes 
over  gravelly  soil,  covered  with  patches  of  thorny  shrubs.  Until 
I  reached  the  village  of  Abou-Hashym,  in  the  evening,  there 
was  no  mark  of  cultivation  on  the  eastern  bank,  though  I  saw 
in  places  the  signs  of  fields  which  had  long  since  been  desert- 
ed. I  passed  several  burying-grounds,  in  one  of  which  the 
guide  showed  me  the  grave  of  Mr.  Melly,  an  English  gentle- 
man who  died  there  about  a  year  previous,  on  his  return  to 
Egypt  with  his  family,  after  a  journey  to  Khartoum.  His 
tomb  was  merely  an  oblong  mound  of  unburnt  brick,  with  a 
rough  stone  at  the  head  and  foot.  It  had  been  strictly  re- 
spected by  the  natives,  who  informed  me  that  large  sums  were 
given  to  them  to  keep  it  in  order  and  watch  it  at  night.  They 
also  told  me  that  after  his  death  there  was  great  difficulty  in 
procuring  a  shroud.  The  only  muslin  in  the  neighborhood  was  a 
piece  belonging  to  an  old  Shekh,  who  had  kept  it  many  years,  iu 
anticipation  of  his  own  death.  It  was  sacred,  having  been  sent 
to  Mecca  and  dipped  in  the  holy  well  of  Zemzem.  In  this  the 
body  was  wrapped  and  laid  in  the  earth.  The  grave  was  in  a 
dreary  spot,  out  of  sight  of  the  river,  and  surrounded  by  desert 
thorns. 

We  had  a  strong  north-wind  all  day.     The  sky  was  cloud- 
less, but  a  fine  vhite  film  filled  the  air,  and  the  distant  moun 


A     WHJTK    AUAIJ.  199 

fciins  Lad  the  pale,  blue-gray  tint  of  an  English  landscape.  The 
Bi.~harees  wrapped  themselves  closely  in  their  mantles  us  the) 
walked,  but  Eesa  ouly  tightened  the  cloih  around  his  loins, 
and  allowed  free  play  to  his  gloriuus  limbs.  He  informed  me 
that  he  was  on  his  way  to  Berber  to  make  preparations  for  his 
marriage,  which  was  to  take  place  in  another  moon.  He  and 
llossayu  explained  to  me  how  the  Ababdehs  would  then  come 
together,  least  on  camel's  flesh,  and  dance  their  sword-dances. 
"  1  shall  go  to  your  wedding,  too,"  1  said  to  Eesa.  '"  Will  you 
indeed,  O  Etfendi  1 "  he  cried,  with  delight :  "  then  1  shall  kill 
my  she-camel,  and  give  you  the  best  piece."  1  asked  whether 
I  should  be  kindly  received  among  the  Ababdehs,  and  Eyoub 
declared  that  the  men  would  be  glad  to  see  me,  but  that  the 
women  were  afraid  of  Franks.  "  But,"  said  Achmet,  "  the 
Etfendi  is  no  Frank."  M  How  is  this?  "  said  Eyoub^  turning 
to  me.  "Achmet  is  right,"  1  answered  :  •'  1  am  a  white  Arab, 
from  India."  "  But  do  you  not  speak  the  Frank  language, 
when  you  talk  with  each  other  ?  "  "  No,"  said  Achmet,  '•  we 
talk  llindustauee."  "  O,  praised  be  Allah  !  "  cried  Hossayn, 
clapping  his  hands  with  joy  :  "  praised  be  Allah,  that  you  are 
ail  Arab,  like  ourselves ! "  and  there  was  such  pleasure  in  the 
faces  of  all,  that  I  immediately  repented  of  having  deceived 
them.  They  assured  me,  however,  that  the  Ababdehs  would 
not  only  admit  me  into  their  tribe,  but  that  1  might  have  the 
handsomest  Ababdiyeh  that  could  be  found,  for  a  wife.  Hos- 
sayn had  already  asked  Achmet  to  marry  the  eldest  of  his  two 
daughters,  who  was  then  eleven  years  old. 

I  passed  the  last  evening  of  the  year  1851  on  the  bank  of 
the  JNile,  near  Abou-Hashym.  There  was  a  wild,  green  island 
MI  the  stream,  and  reels  of  black  rock,  which  broke  the  current 


200  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

into  rapids.  The  opposite  shore  wa<  green  and  lovely  crowned 
with  groups  of  palms,  between  whose  stems  I  had  glimpse* 
of  blue  mountains  far  to  the  south  and  west.  The  tempera- 
ture was  mild,  ,md  the  air  full  of  the  aroma  of  mimo-a  blos- 
soms. When  night  came  on  I  enjoyed  the  splendid  moon  and 
starlight  of  the  tropics,  and  watched  the  Southern  Cross  rise 
above  the  horizon.  The  inhabitants  of  the  village  beat  their 
wooden  drums  lustily  all  night,  to  scare  the  hippopotami  away 
from  their  bean-fields.  My  dream  before  waking  was  of  an 
immense  lion,  which  I  had  tamed,  and  which  walked  beside 
aie — a  propitious  omen,  said  the  Arabs. 

The  morning  was  so  cold  that  the  Bisharees  were  very  lan- 
guid in  their  movements,  and  even  I  was  obliged  to  don  my 
capote.  Eesa  helped  the  men  in  all  the  freedom  of  his  naked 
limbs,  and  showed  no  signs  of  numbness.  The  village  of 
Abou-Hashym  extends  for  three  or  four  miles  along  the  river, 
and  looked  charming  in  the  morning  sunshine,  with  its  bright 
fields  of  wheat,  cotton  and  dourra  spread  out  in  front  of  the 
tidy  clay  houses.  The  men  were  at  work  among  the  grain, 
directing  the  course  of  the  water,  and  shy  children  tended  the 
herds  of  black  goats  that  browsed  on  the  thorns  skirting  the 
Desert.  The  people  greeted  me  very  cordially,  and  when  I 
stopped  to  wait  for  the  camels  an  old  man  came  running  up  to 
inquire  if  I  had  lost  the  way.  The  western  bank  of  the  river 
is  still  richer  and  more  thickly  populated,  and  the  large  town 
of  Bedjem,  capital  of  the  Beyooda  country,  lies  just  opposite 
Abou-Hashym.  After  leaving  the  latter  place  our  road  swerved 
still  more  from  the  Nile,  and  took  a  straight  course  over  a 
rolling  desert  tract  of  stones  and  thorns,  to  avoid  a  very  long 
curve  of  the  stream.  The  air  was  still  strong  from  the  north, 


1OS8   OF    MY    THERMOMETER.  201 

and  the  same  gray  vapor  tempered    the   sunshine  and  toned 
down  the  brilliant  tints  of  the  landscape. 

We  passed  several  small  burying-grounds  in  which  many 
of  the  graves  were  decked  with  small  white  flags  stuck  on 
poles,  and  others  had  bowls  of  water  placed  at  the  head — a 
cii.-tom  for  which  I  could  get  no  explanation.  Near  El  Bagh 
eyr,  where  we  struck  the  river  again,  we  met  two  Bedouins, 
who  had  turned  merchants  and  were  taking  a  drove  of  camels 
to  Egypt.  One  of  them  had  the  body  of  a  gazelle  which  he 
had  shot  two  days  before,  hanging  at  his  saddle,  and  offered  to 
sell  to  me,  but  the  flesh  had  become  too  dry  and  hard  for  my 
teeth.  Ali  succeeded  in  buying  a  pair  of  fowls  for  three  pias- 
tres, and  brought  me,  besides,  some  doum-nuts,  of  the  last 
year's  growth.  I  could  make  no  impression  on  them  until  the 
rind  had  been  pounded  with  stones.  The  taste  was  like  that 
of  dry  gingerbread,  and  when  fresh,  must  be  very  agreeable. 
In  the  fields  I  noticed  a  new  kind  of  grain,  the  heads  of  which 
resembled  rice.  The  natives  called  it  dookhn,  and  said  that  it 
was  even  more  nutritious  than  wheat  or  dourra,  though  not  so 
palatable. 

I  signalized  New-Year's  Day,  1852,  by  breaking  my  ther- 
mometer, which  fell  out  of  my  pocket  as  I  was  mounting  my 
dromedary.  It  was  impossible  to  replace  it,  and  one  point 
wherein  my  journey  might  have  been  useful  was  thus  lost. 
The  variations  of  temperature  at  different  hours  of  the  day 
were  very  remarkable,  and  on  leaving  Korosko  I  had  com- 
menced a  r  jcord  which  I  intended  to  keep  during  the  wholo  of 
my  stay  in  Central  Africa.*  In  the  evening  I  found  in  the 

•  The  following  record  of  the  temperature,  from  the   time  of  leaving 
Korosko  to  the  date  of  the  accident  which  deprived  me  of  the  th  «rnum- 
»* 


202  JOURNEY   TO   CKNTRAL   AFRICA. 

Nile  a  fish  about  four  feet  long,  which  had  just  been  killed  bj 
a  crocodile.  It  was  lying  near  the  water's  edge,  and  as  I  de- 
scended the  bank  to  examine  it,  two  slender  black  serpents  slid 
away  from  before  my  feet. 

We  struck  the  tent  early  the  next  morning,  and  entered 
on  the  akaba,  or  pass  of  the  Wady  el-homar  (Valley  of 
Asses).  It  was  a  barren,  stony  tract,  intersected  with  long 
hollows,  which  produced  a  growth  of  thorns  and  a  hard,  dry 
grass,  the  blades  of  which  cut  the  fingers  that  attempted  to 
pluck  it.  We  passed  two  short  ranges  of  low  hills,  which 
showed  the  same  strata  of  coal-black  shale,  as  in  the  Nubian 
Desert.  The  akaba  takes  its  name  from  the  numbers  of  wild 
asses  which  are  found  in  it.  These  beasts  are  remarkably  shy 
and  fleet,  but  are  sometimes  killed  and  eaten  by  the  Arabs. 
We  kept  a  sharp  look-out,  but  saw  nothing  more  than  their 
tracks  in  the  sand.  We  met  several  companies  of  the  village 

eter,  is  interesting,  as  it  shows  a  variation  fully  equal  to  that  of  our  oun 
climate: 


7  A.  1C. 

12  M. 

2  P.  M 

Korosko, 

Dec.  21st 

59° 

75° 

80° 

Desert, 

"     22 

50° 

74° 

80° 

U 

"     23 

55° 

75° 

(BahrbelaMa)  85° 

M 

"     24 

51° 

70° 

78° 

u 

"     25 

54° 

78° 

86° 

M 

"     26 

60° 

91° 

100° 

u 

«     27 

55° 

— 

96° 

u 

«     28 

69° 

— 

90° 

Xbou-Hammed 

"     29 

61° 

— 

90° 

The  Nile 

<     30 

59° 

— 

86° 

M 

*     81 

52° 

78° 

84° 

-             Jan.  1st,  1853 

47° 

70° 

68* 

ETHIOPIAN    8CKNEKY.  203 

Arabs,  travelling  on  foot  or  on  donkeys.  The  women  were 
unveiled,  and  wore  the  same  cotton  mantle  as  the  men,  reach- 
ing from  the  waist  to  the  knees.  They  were  all  tolerably  old 
and,  unlike  the  men,  were  excessively  ugly.  An  Ababdeh, 
riding  on  his  dromedary,  joined  company  with  us.  He  was 
naked  to  the  loins,  strongly  and  gracefully  built,  and  sat  erect 
on  his  high,  narrow  saddle,  as  if  he  and  his  animal  were  one— 
a  sort  of  camel-centaur.  His  hair  was  profuse  and  bushy,  but 
of  a  fine,  silky  texture,  and  "  short  Numidian  curl,"  very  dif- 
ferent from  the  crisp  wool  of  the  genuine  negro. 

In  the  afternoon  we  reached  the  Nile  again,  at  his  Elev- 
enth Cataract.  For  a  space  of  two  .or  three  miles  his  bed  is 
filled  with  masses  of  black  rock,  in  some  places  forming  dams, 
over  which  the  current  roars  in  its  swift  descent.  The  eastern 
bank  is  desert  and  uninhabited,  but  the  western  delighted  the 
eye  with  the  green  brilliance  of  its  fields.  In  a  patch  of  desert 
grass  we  started  a  large  and  beautiful  gazelle,  spotted  like  a 
fallow-deer.  I  rode  towards  it  and  approached  within  thirty 
yards  before  it  moved  away.  At  sunset  we  reached  a  village 
called  Ginnaynetoo,  the  commencement  of  the  Berber  country. 
The  inhabitants,  who  dwelt  mostly  in  tents  of  palm-matting, 
were  very  friendly.  As  I  was  lying  in  my  tent,  in  the  even- 
ing, two,  who  appeared  to  be  the  principal  persons  of  the  place, 
came  in,  saluted  me  with  "  Peace  be  with  you  ! "  and  asked 
for  my  health,  to  which  I  replied :  "  Very  good,  Allah  be 
praised  ! "  Each  of  them  then  took  my  hand  in  his,  pressed  it 
to  his  lips  and  forehead,  and  quietly  retired. 

We  resumed  our  march  through  a  dry,  rolling  country, 
grown  with  thorns,  acacias  in  flower,  and  occasional  doum- 
Irees.  Beyond  the  Nile,  whose  current  was  no  longer  to  b« 


204  JOURNEY   TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

seen,  stretched  the  long  mountain  of  Berber,  which  we  first 
discerned  thr  day  previous,  when  crossing  the  rise  of  the 
Wady  el-homar.  The  opposite  bank  was  a  sea  of  vivid  green, 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  Near  the  water  the  bean  and 
lupin  flourished  in  thick  clusters ;  behind  them  extended  fields 
of  cotton,  of  a  rich,  dark  foliage  ;  and  still  beyond,  tall  ranks 
of  dourra,  heavy  with  ripening  heads.  Island-like  groups  of 
date-trees  and  doum-palms  studded  this  rich  bed  of  vegetation, 
and  the  long,  blue  slope  of  the  mountain  gave  a  crowning 
charm  to  the  landscape  As  we  approached  the  capital  of 
Berber,  the  villages  on  our  right  became  more  frequent,  but 
our  path  still  lny  over  the  dry  plain,  shimmering  with  the  lakes 
of  the  mirage.  We  passed  a  score  of  huge  vultures,  which 
had  so  gorged  themselves  with  the  carcase  of  a  camel,  that 
they  could  scarcely  move  out  of  our  way.  Among  them  were 
several  white  hawks,  a  company  of  crows,  and  one  tall  black 
stork,  nearly  five  feet  in  height,  which  walked  about  with  the 
deliberate  pace  of  a  staid  clergyman.  Flocks  of  quail  rose 
before  our  very  feet,  and  a  large  gray  dove,  with  a  peculiar 
cooing  note,  was  very  abundant  on  the  trees. 

My  shaytan  of  a  guide,  Eyoub,  wanted  to  stop  at  a  village 
called  El  Khassa,  which  we  reached  at  two  o'clock.  El  Me- 
kheyref,  he  said,  was  far  ahead,  and  we  could  not  get  there  ;  he 
would  give  us  a  sheep  for  our  dinner;  the  Effendi  must  prove 
his  hospitality  (but  all  at  the  EfFendi's  expense),  and  many 
other  weighty  reasons  —  but  it  would  not  do.  I  pushed  on 
ahead,  made  inquiries  of  the  natives,  and  in  two  hours  saw  be- 
fore me  the  mud  fortress  of  El  Mekheyref.  The  camel-men, 
who  were  very  tired,  from  the  long  walk  from  Korosko,  would 
willingly  have  stopped  at  El  Khassa,  but  when  I  pointed  out 


THE    CARAVAN    BROKKN    HP.  205 

Berber,  and  Achmet  told  them  they  could  not  deceive  me,  fat 
I  had  the  truth  written  in  a  book,  they  said  not  a  word. 

We  entered  the  town,  which  was  larger,  cleaner  and  hand- 
somer than  any  place  I  had  seen  since  leaving  Siout.  Ar- 
naout  soldiers  were  mixed  with  the  Arabs  in  the  streets,  and 
we  met  a  harem  of  Caireue  ladies  taking  a  walk,  under  the 
escort  of  two  eunuchs.  One  of  them  stopped  and  greeted  us, 
and  her  large  black  eyes  sparkled  between  the  folds  of  her  veil 
as  she  exclaimed,  in  great  apparent  delight :  "  Ah,  I  know  you 
come  from  Cairo ! "  I  passed  through  the  streets,  found  a 
good  place  lor  my  tent  on  the  high  bank  above  the  water,  and 
by  an  hour  before  sunset  w:is  comfortably  encamped*  I  gave 
the  men  their  backslieesh — forty-seven  piastres  in  all,  with 
which  they  were  well  satisfied,  and  they  then  left  tor  (he  tents 
of  their  tribe,  about  two  hours  distant.  I  .gave  Eesa  some 
trinkets  for  his  bride,  which  he  took  with  "  God  reward 
you  1 "  pressed  my  hand  to  his  lips,  and  then  went  with  them. 


206  JOURNEY    TO    CEXTRAL    AFRICA. 


CHAPTER    XVL 

MY     RECEPTION     IN     BERBER. 

A  Wedding — My  Reception  by  the  Military  Governor — Achmet — The  Bridegroom--i 
Guard — I  am  an  American   Bey — Keff— The   Bey's  Visit — The   Civil   Governor— 
About  the  Navy— The  Priest's  Visit— Hiding  in  State— The  Dongolese  Stallion— A 
Merchant's  House — The  Town — Dinner  at  the  Governor's — The  Pains  of  Royalty- 
A  Salute  to  the  American  Flag — Departure. 

[  WAS  sitting  at  my  tent-door  at  dusk,  after  a  luxurious  dinner 
of  fowls  and  melons,  when  we  suddenly  heard  a  great  sound  of 
drums  and  Arab  singing,  with  repeated  discharges  of  musket- 
ry. The  people  told  us  that  a  marriage  was  being  celebrated, 
and  proposed  that  I  should  go  and  take  part  in  the  festivities. 
I  therefore  partly  resumed  my  Frank  dress,  and  told  Achmet 
that  he  must  no  longer  represent  me  as  a  Turk,  since,  in  the 
conquered  countries  of  Soudan  the  ruling  race  is  even  more 
unpopular  than  the  Franks.  "  Well,  mastei,"  said  lie ;  "  but 
I  must  at  least  make  you  an  American  Bey,  because  some 
rank  is  necessary  in  these  countries."  He  took  a  lantern,  and 
we  set  out,  in  the  direction  of  the  noises. 

As  we  passed  the  mosque,  a  priest  informed  us  that  the 
wedding  was  at  the  Governor's  house,  and  that  the  bridegroom 
was  the  son  of  a  former  Governor's  wekeel,  or  deputy.  The 


MARRIAGE    FESTIVITIES.  J07 

drums  guided  us  to  a  spacious  court-yard,  at  the  door  of  which 
stood  guards  in  festive  dresses.  The  court  was  lighted  by  a 
large  open  brazier  of  charcoal,  fastened  on  the  end  of  a  high 
pole,  and  by  various  colored  lanterns.  Long  benches  were 
ranged  across  the  central  space,  facing  the  Governor's  man- 
sion, and  upon  them  sat  many  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  town, 
listening  to  the  music.  The  Arnaout  soldiers,  in  their  pictu- 
resque dresses,  were  squatted  around  the  walls,  their  yata- 
ghans and  long  guns  gleaming  in  the  moonlight.  The  musi- 
cians sat  on  a  raised  platform,  beside  the  steps  leading  to  the 
door.  There  were  half  a  dozen  drums,  some  Arab  flutes,  and 
a  chorus  of  strong-lunged  singers,  who  chanted  a  wild,  barbaric 
epithalamium,  in  perfect  time  and  accord.  The  people  all  sa- 
luted us  respectfully,  and  invited  us  to  enter.  The  Albanian 
guards  ushered  us  into  a  lofty  room,  roofed  with  palm-logs, 
which  were  carefully  chosen  for  their  size  and  straightness. 
A  broad,  cushioned  divan  ran  around  two  sides  of  the  apart- 
ment. Here  sat  the  military  Governor,  with  his  principal  offi- 
cers, while  richly-dressed  soldiers  stood  in  waiting.  An  im- 
mense glass  lantern  gave  light  to  this  striking  picture. 

The  Governor,  who  was  called  Yagheshir  Bey  (although 
he  held  the  lower  rank  of  a  Sanjak),  was  an  Albanian,  and 
commander  of  the  Egyptian  troops  in  Berber  and  Shendy. 
He  received  me  with  great  kindne.-s,  and  made  room  for  me 
beside  him  on  the  divan.  He  was  a  tall,  stately  man,  about 
fifty  years  of  age;  hi-  face  was  remarkably  handsome,  with  a 
mild,  benevolent  expression,  and  he  had  the  manners  of  a  fin- 
ished gentleman.  On  my  left  hand  was  one  of  his  officers, 
also  a  tall,  fur-capped  Albanian.  I  presented  both  of  the  dig- 
nitaries with  cigars,  foi  which  they  seemed  to  have  a  great 


108  JOURNEY  TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

relish.  Coffee  soon  appeared,  served  by  negro  slaves,  in  rid 
blue  dresses,  and  then  the  Bey's  shebook,  with  a  mouth-piecfl 
Btudded  with  diamonds,  was  filled  for  me.  The  slaves  present- 
ly returned,  with  large  glass  cups  filled  with  delicious  sherbet, 
which  they  offered  upon  gold-fringed  napkins.  Achmet,  being 
seated  on  the  other  side  of  tlie  Governor,  was  mistaken  by  the 
attendants  for  the  American  Bey,  notwithstanding  his  dark 
complexion,  and  served  first.  I  could  not  but  admire  the 
courtly  ease  of  his  manners,  which  belonged  rather  to  the  born 
son  of  a  Pasha  than  to  the  poor  orphan-boy  of  Luxor,  indebt- 
ed only  to  his  honesty,  quick  sense,  and  the  kindness  of  an 
English  lady,  for  a  better  fate  than  that  of  the  common  Fel- 
lahs of  Egypt.  Yet  with  all  the  respect  which  he  knew  so 
well  how  to  command,  his  devotion  to  me,  as  a  servant,  waa 
unchanged,  and  he  was  as  unremitting  in  his  attentions  as  if 
soul  and  body  had  been  given  him  expressly  for  my  use. 

The  Bey,  learning  that  I  was  bound  for  Khartoum,  sent  a 
soldier  for  the  shekh  of  the  harbor,  whom  he  commanded,  in 
my  presence,  to  procure  a  boat  for  me,  and  see  that  it  was 
ready  to  sail  the  next  day.  The  only  boats  in  this  region  are 
rough,  open  crafts,  but  the  shekh  promised  to  erect  a  tent  of 
palm-mats  on  the  poop,  to  serve  as  a  cabin.  Soon  after  he 
left  the  bridegroom  appeared,  led  by  an  attendant,  as  he  was 
totally  blind.  He  was  a  handsome  youth  of  eighteen,  and  in 
his  air  there  was  a  charming  mixture  of  the  bridegroom's  dig- 
nity and  the  boy's  bashfulness.  He  was  simply,  but  very 
tastefully  dressed,  in  a  blue  embroidered  jacket,  white  silk 
shirt,  white  shawl  fringed  with  gold,  full  white  trowsers  and 
red  slippers.  He  was  led  to  the  Governor,  kissed  his  hand 
and  begged  him  to  ask  me  if  he  might  not  be  allowed  to  have 


THK   BEY'S   COURTESY.  209 

dinner  prepared  for  me.  The  officers  asked  me  whether  I 
knew  of  any  remedy  for  his  blindness,  but  as  I  found  that  the 
sight  had  been  destroyed  by  cataract,  I  told  them  there  was 
no  help  for  him  nearer  than  Cairo.  The  ceremonies  were  all 
over,  and  the  bride,  after  the  entire  consummation  of  the  nup- 
tials, had  gone  to  her  father's  hou^e,  to  remain  four  days. 

The  Bey,  finding  that  I  was  not  a  merchant,  asked  Achmet 
what  rank  I  held,  and  the  latter  answered  that  in  my  own 
country  it  was  something  between  a  Bey  and  a  Pasha.  Be- 
fore we  left,  three  soldiers  were  sent  down  to  the  river,  and, 
as  I  afterwards  learned,  remained  all  night,  standing  with 
whips  over  the  poor  sailors  who  were  employed  in  removing 
the  cargo  from  the  hold  of  the  vessel,  which  the  shekh  of  the 
harbor  had  selected  for  me.  The  rais  was  threatened  with  a 
hundred  lashes,  unless  he  had  every  thing  ready  by  the  next 
day.  On  leaving,  I  gave  a  medjid  to  the  servants,  as  a  gra- 
tuity is  expected  on  such  occasions.  The  Bey  sent  me  one  of 
his  Arnaouts  to  carry  the  lantern,  and  insisted  on  stationing  a 
guard  near  my  tent.  Two  soldiers  came  soon  afterwards,  who 
sat  upon  my  camp-chests  and  smoked  my  tobacco  until  morn- 
ing. Many  of  the  soldiers  were  slaves,  who  received  only  fif- 
teen piastres  a  month,  beside  their  rations.  The  Arnaouts 
were  paid  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  piastres,  and  thirty-five 
piastres  additional,  provided  they  furnished  their  own  equip- 
ments. As  I  pulled  off  my  turban  and  threw  myself  on  my 
mattress,  I  involuntarily  contrasted  my  position  with  that  of 
the  previous  evening.  Then,  I  slept  in  the  midst  of  a  clus- 
ter o'.'  Arab  huts,  a  simple  Howadji,  among  camel  -  drivers. 
Now,  I  was  an  American  Bey,  in  my  tent  overlooking  th« 
Nile,  watched  by  a  guard  of  honor  sent  me  by  the  commandei 
\ 


210  JOURNEV  TO   CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

of  the  military  forces  in  Berber  and  Shendy.  All  honor  to 
Ethiopian  hospitality !  For  here  was  at  last  the  true  Ethio- 
pia, beyond  the  confines  of  Nubia ;  beyond  the  ancient  Capital 
of  Queen  Candace  ;  beyond,  not  only  the  first  and  second,  but 
the  eleventh  cataract  of  the  Nile,  and  not  far  distant  from 
"  the  steep  of  utmost  Axume." 

The  morning  brought  with  it  no  less  pleasant  experiences. 
Seated  at  the  door  of  my  tent,  indolently  smoking,  lulled  by 
the  murmuring  of  the  Nile  and  cheered  by  the  brightness  of 
the  green  sea  that  bathed  his  western  shore,  I  enjoyed  the  first 
complete  kejf*'mce  leaving  Egypt.  The  temperature  was  like 
that  of  an  American  June,  and  my  pulse  beat  so  full  and  warm, 
my  whole  body  was  so  filled  with  a  sense  of  health,  of  strength 
in  repose,  of  pure  physical  satisfaction,  that  I  could  not  be 
otherwise  than  happy.  My  pleasure  was  disturbed  by  an  old 
Arab,  who  came  up  with  two  beautiful  goats,  which  I  supposed 
he  wanted  to  sell,  but  when  Achmet  returned  from  the  bazaar, 
I  found  that  they  were  a  present  from  the  Bey. 

As  I  was  sitting  at  breakfast,  an  hour  later,  I  heard  Ach- 
met talking  loudly  with  some  one  on  the  outside  of  the  tent, 
and  called  to  him  to  know  what  was  the  matter.  He  stated 
that  an  officer  had  just  arrived  to  announce  the  Bey's  approach, 
but  that  he  had  ordered  him  to  go  back  and  say  that  I  was  at 
breakfast,  and  the  Bey  must  not  come  for  half  an  hour.  "  You 
have  done  a  very  rude  thing,"  I  said ;  for  I  felt  annoyed  that 
the  Bey  should  receive  such  a  message,  as  coming  from  me. 
u  Don't  be  alarmed,  master,"  he  coolly  replied  ;  "  the  Bey  ia 
now  certain  that  you  are  of  higher  rank  than  he."  Fortunate- 
ly, I  had  a  handsome  tent,  the  best  of  tobacco,  and  pure  Mocha 
coffee,  so  that  I  could  comply  with  the  requisites  of  Eastern 


OFFIC.  AL  VISITS.  ;>  1  1 

ho'pitality  in  a  manner  worthy  of  my  supposed  rank.  The 
tent  was  put  in  order,  and  I  arranged  a  divan  on  one  side, 
made  of  my  carpet,  mattress,  and  capote.  The  two  lantern- 
poles,  bound  together,  formed  a  mast,  which  I  planted  at  the 
door,  and  then  run  up  the  American  flag.  The  preparations 
were  scarcely  completed  before  the  Bey  appeared,  galloping 
up  on  a  superb,  jet-black  stallion,  with  half  a  dozen  officers  in 
attendance.  As  he  dismounted,  I  advanced  to  receive  him. 
According  to  Arab  etiquette,  the  highest  in  rank  enters  first, 
and  true  to  Achmet's  prediction,  the  Bey,  after  taking  my 
hand,  requested  me  to  precede  him.  I  declined,  out  of  cour- 
tesy to  him,  and  after  a  polite  controversy  on  the  subject,  he 
passed  his  arm  affectionately  around  my  waist,  and  we  went  in 
side  by  side.  Achmet  had  excellent  coffee  and  sherbet  in 
readiness,  but  the  Bey  preferred  my  cigars  to  the  shebook. 
As  he  sat  beside  me  on  the  divan,  I  thought  I  had  rarely  seen 
a  nobler  countenance.  He  had  an  unusually  clear,  large  hazel 
eye,  a  long  but  not  prominent  nose,  and  the  lines  of  fifty  years 
had  softened  and  subdued  an  expression  which  may  have  been 
fierce  and  fearless  in  his  younger  days.  He  was  from  a  village 
near  Parga,  in  Albania,  and  was  delighted  when  I  told  him 
that  not  long  previous,  I  had  sailed  past  the  shores  of  his 
native  land. 

He  had  no  sooner  taken  his  leave  than  the  Civil  Governor, 
ad  interim,  Mustapha  Kashif,  arrived,  attended  by  his  chief 
secretary,  Mahmoud  Effendi.  Mustapha  was  an  Anatolian, 
email  in  stature,  and  quite  withered  and  wasted  by  the  torrid 
climate  of  Berber.  His  skin  had  a  dark  unhealthy  hue,  and 
his  eyes  a  filmy  glare,  which  I  attributed  to  other  causes  than 
the  diseased  liver  of  which  he  complained.  He  immediately 


IIS  JOURNEY   TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

asked  for  arakee,  and  when  I  told  him  that  it  was  bad  for  tht 
liver,  said  it  was  the  only  thing  which  did  him  good.  Mah- 
moud  Effendi,  who  was  a  good-humored  Turk,  made  himself 
quite  at  home.  I  showed  them  my  sketches,  with  which  they 
wore  greatly  diverted.  A  remark  of  the  Governor  gratified 
me  exceedingly,  as  it  showed  that  all  the  attention  I  received 
was  paid  me,  not  on  account  of  my  supposed  rank,  but  from 
the  fact  of  my  being  the  first  American  who  had  ever  visited 
the  place.  "  I  have  been  in  this  country  twenty-four  years," 
said  he,  "  and  in  all  that  time  only  some  French  and  two  or 
three  German  and  English  travellers  have  passed  through. 
You  are  the  first  I  have  seen  from  Yenkee-Doonea.  [This 
Bounds  very  much  like  Yankee-Doodledom,  but  is  in  reality  the 
Turkish  for  "  New  World."]  You  must  not  go  home  with  an 
unfavorable  account  of  us."  He  had  once,  when  in  Alexan- 
dria, visited  an  American  man-of-war,  which,  it  appeared,  had 
left  a  strong  impression  upon  his  mind.  After  mentioning  the 
circumstance,  he  asked  me  how  many  vessels  there  were  in  our 
Navy.  I  had  mastered  the  Arabic  language  sufficiently  to 
know  the  necessity  of  exaggeration,  and  answered,  without  hes- 
itation, that  there  were  one  hundred.  "  Oh  no ! "  said  Mus- 
tapha,  turning  to  Mahmoud,  the  Secretary :  "  His  Excellency 
is  entirely  too  modest.  I  know  very  well  that  there  are  six 
hundred  vessels  in  the  American  Navy !  "  I  had  fallen  far 
below  the  proper  mark  ;  but  Achmet  tried  to  straighten  the 
matter  by  saying  that  I  meant  one  hundred  ships-of-the-line, 
and  did  not  include  the  frigates,  sloops-of-war,  brigs,  and  cor- 
vettes. 

Before  the  Governor  had  finished  his  visit,  there  was  a  stii 
BOteide  of  the  tent,  and  presently  the  Chief  Mollah — the  high 


THE  GOVERNOR'S  STALLIOW.  213 

priest  of  the  mosque  of  Berber — made  his  app(arance.  He 
was  a  tall,  dark-skinned  Arab  of  between  fifty  and  sixty  years 
of  age,  and  wore  a  long  robe  of  the  color  sacred  to  Mahomet, 
with  a  turban  of  the  same,  under  which  the  ends  of  a  scarf  of 
white  gauze,  embroidered  with  Arabic  characters  in  gold,  hung 
on  both  sides  of  his  face.  His  manner  was  quiet  and  dignified, 
to  a  degree  which  I  never  saw  excelled  by  any  Christian 
divine.  He  refused  the  pipe,  but  took  coffee  and  sherbet, 
holding  the  former  two  or  three  times  alternately  to  each  eye, 
while  he  murmured  a  form  of  prayer.  He  was  very  much 
delighted  with  my  sketches,  and  I  was  beginning  to  feel  inter- 
ested in  his  remarks,  when  the  Governor's  servant  appeared, 
leading  a  splendid  chestnut  stallion,  with  a  bridle  of  scarlet 
silk  cord,  and  trappings  of  cloth  of  the  same  royal  color.  He 
was  brought  in  order  that  I  might  take  a  ride  through  the  city. 
u  But,"  said  I  to  Achmet,  "  I  cannot  go  until  this  priest  has 
left."  "  You  forget  your  high  rank,  O  master  I "  said  the 
cunning  dragoman  ;  "  go  without  fear,  and  I  will  take  charge 
of  the  priest"  Without  more  ado,  I  took  a  hasty  leave  of  the 
mollah,  and  swung  myself  into  the  saddle.  The  animal  shot 
off  like  a  bolt  from  a  cross-bow,  leaving  the  Governor  to  fol- 
low in  my  wake,  on  his  favorite  gray  ass.  On  reaching  the 
mosque,  I  waited  for  him,  and  we  entered  the  bazaars  to- 
gether. He  insisted  on  my  preceding  him,  and  at  his  com- 
mand all  the  merchants  rose  and  remained  standing  until  we 
passed.  All  eyes  were  of  course  fixed  upon  me,  and  I  had 
some  difficulty  in  preserving  a  serious  and  dignified  counte- 
nance, as  I  thought  of  my  cracked  nose  and  Abyssinian  com- 
plexion. Two  of  the  Governor's  slaves  attended  me,  and  one 
of  them,  who  had  a  remarkably  insolent  and  scornful  expres 


214  JOURNEY   TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

Bion,  was  the  only  person  who  did  not  seem  impressed  by  raj 
presence.  The  fellow's  face  was  disagreeable  to  me ;  he  waa 
the  death's-head  at  my  banquet. 

The  stallion  was  a  noble  beast,  so  full  of  blood  and  fire 
that  it  was  worth  a  month's  journey  through  the  Desert  to  be 
stride  him.  He  was  small,  and  his  limb*  were  scarcely  long 
enough  for  the  breadth  of  his  chest  and  the  fulness  of  his 
flanks.  He  had,  however,  the  slender  head  and  brilliant  eye 
of  the  Arab  breed,  and  his  powerful  neck  expressed  a  fine  dis- 
dain of  other  horses.  He  was  of  the  best  Dongolese  stock, 
but  resembled  in  many  points  the  famed  Anatolian  breed  of 
Asia  Minor.  He  pranced  and  caracoled  impatiently  as  I 
forced  him  to  accommodate  his  pace  to  that  of  the  ignoble  ass. 
"  Let  him  run !  "  said  the  Governor,  as  we  reached  a  broad 
open  square  near  the  outskirts  of  the  city.  I  slackened  the 
rein,  and  he  dashed  away  with  a  swiftness  that  almost  stopped 
my  breath.  I  am  but  an  ordinary  rider,  but  owing  to  the 
Turkish  saddle,  had  no  difficulty  in  keeping  a  firm  seat  and 
controlling  the  powerful  steed.  We  visited  the  mud  fortress 
of  Berber,  which  is  a  square  structure,  with  a  bastion  at  each 
corner,  having  embrasures  for  three  cannon,  and  the  Governor 
gave  me  to  understand  that  they  made  a  mighty  sound,  every 
time  they  were  fired.  He  then  took  me  to  the  house  of  a 
French  merchant,  with  a  name  something  like  D'Arfou.  The 
merchant  was  absent  in  Cairo,  but  a  black  slave  gave  us 
admittance.  We  took  seats  in  a  cool  portico,  admired  the 
Frenchman's  handsome  gray  donkey  and  his  choice  cows,  looked 
out  the  windows  upon  his  garden,  planted  with  fig,  orange, 
banana  and  pomegranate  trees,  and  were  finally  served  with 
coffee,  presented  in  heavy  silver  serfs.  A  slave  then  appeared, 


A  RIDE   THROUGH    THE   CITT. 

bringing  his  child,  a  pretty  boy  of  two  years  old,  born  of  an 
Abyssinian  mother.  He  refused  to  be  taken  into  the  Gov- 
ernor's arms,  and  contemplated  me,  his  Frank  relative,  with 
much  more  satisfaction.  M.  D'Arfou's  house — although  the 
walls  were  mud,  the  floors  gravel  and  the  roof  palm-logs — 
was  cool,  roomy  and  pleasant ;  and  for  that  region,  where  one 
cannot  easily  have  marble  pavements  and  jasj>er  fountains,  was 
even  luxurious. 

We  mounted  again,  and  the  Governor  took  me  through  the 
city,  to  its  southern  extremity.  It  is  more  than  a  mile  in 
length,  and  contains  about  twenty  thousand  inhabitants.  The 
houses  are  all  of  mud,  which,  though  unsightly  in  appearance, 
is  there  as  good  as  granite,  and  the  streets  are  broad,  clean, 
and  unmolested  by  dogs.  I  was  well  pleased  with  the  appear- 
ance of  the  place.  The  inhabitants  are  mostly  Nubians,  of  the 
different  tribes  between  Berber  and  Dongola,  mixed  with  a 
few  Ababdehs,  Bisharees,  and  other  Desert  Arabs.  Though 
scantily  dressed,  they  seemed  contented,  if  not  with  their  mas- 
ters, at  least  with  their  condition.  Among  the  crowd  that 
gathered  to  see  us,  I  recognized  Eesa,  arrayed  in  a  new,  snow- 
white  garment,  and  looking  like  a  bronze  Ganymede.  He 
gazed  at  me  wistfully,  as  if  uncertain  whether  he  should  dare 
to  speak,  but  I  hailed  him  at  once  with :  "  Salaamat,  ya 
Eesa  !  "  and  he  replied  proudly  and  joyfully.  After  our  tour 
was  over,  the  Governor  took  me  to  his  house,  which,  after  that 
uf  the  Pasha,  was  the  finest  one  in  the  place.  His  reception- 
room  was  cool,  with  a  broad  divan,  upon  which  we  stretched 
ourselves  at  ease,  sharing  the  single  pillow  between  us.  The 
attendants  were  dressing  in  an  adjoining  room,  and  presently 
appeared  in  all  the  splendor  of  snow-white  turbans  and  trow 


216  JOURNEY  TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

«ere.  I  was  presented  with  a  pipe,  and  as  a  great  treat,  a  hot 
tie  of  the  mastic  cordial  of  Scio  was  brought.  Tlie  Governor 
insisted  on  my  drinking  three  small  glasses  of  it,  three  being 
the  fortunate  number.  At  ti  is  juncture  Achmet  appeared,  to 
my  great  relief,  for-my  whole  stock  of  Arabic  was  exhausted. 
We  were  about  to  leave,  but  the  Governor  declared  that  it 
was  impossible.  It  would  be  disgraceful  to  him,  should  we 
not  take  dinner  in  his  house,  and  in  order  that  we  might  not 
be  delayed,  he  ordered  it  to  be  served  at  once.  I  was  willing 
enough  to  make  use  of  this  opportunity  of  partaking  of  an 
Arab  dinner.  First,  a  slave  appeared,  and  gave  each  of  us  a 
napkin,  which  we  spread  over  our  knees.  He  was  followed  by 
another,  who  bore  a  brass  ewer,  and  a  pitcher  from  which  he 
poured  water  over  our  hands.  A  small  stand  upholding  a 
large  circular  piece  of  tin,  was  then  placed  before  us.  A  cov- 
ered dish  stood  in  the  centre,  and  a  rampart  of  thin  wheaten 
cakes,  resembling  Mexican  tortillas,  adorned  the  circumference. 
The  cover  was  removed,  disclosing  a  thick  soup,  with  balls  of 
dough  and  meat.  We  took  the  ebony  spoons,  and  now  behold 
the  Governor,  Achmet  and  I  dipping  fraternally  into  the  same 
bowl,  and  politely  stirring  the  choice  lumps  into  each  other's 
spoons.  Mustapha  was  in  the  most  hilarious  humor,  but  his 
four  dark  attendants  stood  before  us  as  solemn  as  Death.  I 
thought  then,  and  still  think,  that  they  hated  him  cordially. 
The  soup  was  followed  by  a  dish  of  kibdbs,  or  small  pieces  of 
meat,  fried  in  grease.  These  we  picked  out  with  our  fingens, 
and  then,  tearing  the  wheat  cakes  into  slices,  sopped  up  the 
sauce.  About  ten  different  compounds  of  meat  and  vegetables 
followed,  each  unlike  any  thing  I  ever  tasted  before,  but  all 
quite  palatable.  The  only  articles  I  was  able  to  detect  in  tin 


DINNER    WITH    THE    GOVERNOR.  217 

whoie  dinner,  were  mutton-cutlets,  egg  plants  and  sour  milk. 
Each  dish  was  brought  on  separately,  and  we  all  three  at»» 
therefrom,  either  with  spoons  or  fingers.  When  the  repast  wa* 
finished,  water  was  brought  again,  and  we  washed  our  hand? 
and  quietly  awaited  the  pipes  and  coffee.  When  we  arose  to 
leave,  Achmet  was  about  to  give  the  customary  inedjid  to  the 
servants,  but  the  Governor  prevented  him.  Nevertheless,  ho 
found  an  opportunity  as  I  was  mounting,  to  slip  it  into  the 
hand  of  the  scornful  slave,  who  took  it  without  relaxing  the 
Kcowl  upon  his  features.  I  pranced  back  to  my  tent  upon  the 
chestnut  stallion,  from  which  I  parted  with  more  regret  than 
from  its  owner. 

By  this  time,  every  thing  was  in  readiness  for  my  depar- 
ture. The  sailors,  who  had  worked  all  night  with  the  whips 
of  the  Albanian  soldiers  hung  over  their  backs  (unknown  to 
ine,  or  I  should  not  have  permitted  it),  had  brought  the  vessel 
to  the  bank  below  my  tent,  and  the  Bey  had  sent  me  his  prom- 
ised letter  to  the  Governor  of  Shendy.  The  pleasures  of  roy- 
alty were  now  over,  and  I  had  to  deal  with  some  of  its  pains. 
All  the  officers  and  servants  who  had  been  employed  for  my 
benefit  expected  backsheesh,  and  every  beggar  in  the  place 
came  to  taste  the  bounty  of  the  foreign  king.  When  Achmet 
went  to  the  bazaars  to  purchase  a  few  necessaries,  he  over- 
heard the  people  saying  to  one  another,  "  That  is  the  inter- 
preter of  the  strange  king,"  and  many  of  them  rose  and  re- 
mained standing  until  he  had  passed.  All,  who  had  spent  the 
whole  dav  apparently  in  hunting  for  chickens  and  pigeons,  but 
Rblis  knew  for  what  in  reality,  was  assailed  on  all  sides  with 
inquiries :  "  Who  is  this  that  has  come  among  us  ?  What 
high  rank  does  he  possess,  that  he  receives  such  honor?" 
10 


218  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AKR1CA. 

AJi,  who  had  known  me  merely  as  a  Howadji,  was  somewhat 
perplexed  how  to  explain  the  matter,  but  got  out  of  his  diffi- 
culty by  declaring  that  I  was  the  son  of  the  great  king  of  all 
the  Franks. 

I  shall  not  soon  forget  that  noble  old  Albanian,  Yagheshir 
Bey.  Achmet,  who  paid  him  a  parting  visit,  and  was  received 
with  the  greatest  kindness,  conceived  a  strong  affection  for 
him.  The  Bey,  on  learning  that  I  was  ready  to  leave,  sent 
word  to  me  that  he  would  bring  a  company  of  his  Arnaouta 
down  to  the  bank  of  the  Nile,  and  salute  my  flag.  "  It  is  the 
first  time  that  flag  has  been  seen  here,"  said  he  to  Achmet, 
"and-Imust  have  it  properly  honored."  And  truly  enough, 
when  we  were  all  embarked,  and  I  had  given  the  stars  and 
stripes  to  the  Ethiopian  winds,  a  company  of  about  fifty  sol- 
diers ranged  themselves  along  the  high  bank,  and  saluted  the 
flag  with  a  dozen  rattling  volleys. 

As  I  sailed  away  I  returned  the  salute  with  my  pistols, 
and  the  soldiers  fired  a  parting  volley  after  me  for  good  luck 
on  the  voyage,  but  so  recklessly  that  I  heard  the  sharp  whistle 
of  the  bullets  quite  close  to  the  vessel.  I  felt  more  grateful  to 
the  Bey  for  this  courtesy  than  for  bis  kindness  to  myself. 
But  Berber  was  soon  left  behind ;  toi  ^  wvnd  was  fair,  and 
bore  me  southward,  deeper  into 


S-OHTUNATK    TRAVEL.  219 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE       ETHIOPIAN      NILE 

Kortnnato  Travel— The  America— Ethiopian  Scenery — The  Atbara  Ri'ver—  Darner-  a 
Melon  Patch — Agriculture — The  Inhabitants — Change  of  Scenery — The  >'1ret  Hip 
pcpotamns — Crocodiles—  EftVct  of  My  Map — The  Rats  and  Sailors — Arabs  in  Etiio 
pl»— Ornamental  Scars— Beshir— The  Slave  Bakhita— We  Approach  Merot!. 

•*  Fair  is  that  land  as  evening  skies, 
And  cool — though  in  the  depth  it  lies 
Of  burning  Africa. "—WORDSWORTH. 

THE  voyage  from  Berber  to  Khartoum  was  another  link  in  my 
chain  of  fortunate  travel.  The  Ethiopian  Nile  seemed  to  me 
more  beautiful  than  the  Egyptian ;  at  least,  the  vegetation  was 
richer,  the  air  milder  and  sweeter,  the  water  purer,  and  to 
crown  all,  the  north-wind  unfailing.  Day  and  night  there  was 
a  fresh,  steady  breeze,  carrying  us  smoothly  against  the  cur- 
rent, at  the  precise  rate  of  speed  which  is  most  pleasant  in  a 
-tailing  craft — three  to  four  miles  an  hour.  The  temperature 
was  that  of  an  American  June,  the  nights  deliciously  mild  and 
Hweet,  and  the  full  moon  shone  with  a  splendor  unknown  in 
northern  latitudes.  I  was  in  perfect  health  of  body,  and  suf 
fored  no  apprehension  or  anxiety  for  the  future  to  disturb  raj 
bappy  frame  of  mind. 

El  Mekheyref  looked  very  picturesque  in  the  soft  clew 


520  JOORNBY  TO    CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

light  of  the  last  afternoon  hour,  as  I  sailed  away  from  it.  The 
Bey's  mansion  and  the  mosque  rose  conspicuously  above  the 
long  lines  of  clay  walls,  and  groups  of  luxuriant  date-trees  in 
the  gardens  supplied  the  place  of  minarets  and  spires.  Both 
shores,  above  the  city,  were  in  a  high  state  of  cultivation,  and 
I  passed  many  thriving  villages  before  dusk.  Even  under  th€ 
moon,  the  corn-fields  on  either  hand  were  green  and  bright.  I 
was  installed  in  a  temporary  cabin,  formed  of  my  tent-canvas( 
stretched  over  a  frame  of  palm-sticks,  erected  on  the  narrow 
poop-deck.  Achmet  and  Ali  took  possession  of  the  hold,  which 
they  occupied  as  kitchen  and  store-room.  The  rais,  sailors 
and  the  two  beautiful  sheep  which  the  Bey  gave  me,  were  group- 
ed on  the  forecastle.  On  this  first  evening,  the  men,  fatigued 
by  their  extra  labors  on  my  account,  were  silent,  and  I  was 
left  to  the  full  enjoyment  of  the  scene.  The  waves  rippled 
pleasantly  against  the  prow  of  the  America ;  the  frogs  and 
crickets  kept  up  a  concert  along  the  shore,  and  the  zikzak,  or 
crocodile-bird,  uttered  his  sharp,  twittering  note  at  intervals. 
Hours  passed  thus,  before  I  was  willing  to  close  my  eyes. 

The  landscapes  next  morning  were  still  more  beautiful. 
The  Nile  was  as  broad  as  in  Lower  Egypt,  flowing  between 
banks  of  the  most  brilliant  green.  Long  groves  of  palms  be- 
hind the  shore,  shut  out  from  view  the  desert  tracts  beyond, 
and  my  voyage  all  day  was  a  panorama  of  the  richest  summer 
scenery.  Early  in  the  forenoon  I  passed  the  mouth  of  the  At- 
bara,  the  ancient  Astaboras,  and  the  first  tributary  stream 
which  the  traveller  meets  on  his  journey  from  the  Mediterra- 
uean.  Its  breadth  is  about  one-third  that  of  the  main  river, 
but  the  volume  of  water  must  be  in  a  much  smaller  proportion, 
The  water  is  a  clear,  bright  green,  and  its  junction  with  the 


THIS    ATBARA    RIVER.  22 J 

darker  Nile  is  distinctly  marked.  I  could  look  up  the  Atbarp 
for  about  a  mile,  to  where  it  curved  out  of  sight  between  high 
green  banks  covered  with  flowering  mimosas.  It  was  a  charm- 
ing piece  of  river  scenery,  and  I  longed  to  follow  the  stream 
upward  through  the  wild  domains  of  the  Hallengas  and  Ha- 
dendoas,  through  the  forests  and  jungles  of  Takka  and  Schan- 
galla,  to  where,  an  impetuous  torrent,  it  foams  through  the 
Alpine  highlands  of  Samen,  under  the  eternal  snows  of  Abba- 
Jaret  and  Amba-Hai.  In  Abyssinia  it  bears  the  name  of  Ta- 
cazze,  but  afterwards  through  the  greater  part  cf  its  course,  is 
called  the  Atbara  (and  the  country  it  waters,  Dar  Atbara),  ex- 
cept at  its  junction  with  the  Nile,  where  the  natives  name  it 
El-bahr  Mogran. 

Two  or  three  hours  later  we  reached  the  large  town  of  Da- 
rner, which  gives  its  name  to  the  point  of  laud  between  the 
two  rivers.  It  is  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  shore,  and  is  a 
collection  of  mud  buildings,  scattered  through  a  grove  of  sont 
trees.  My  sailors  stopped  to  get  some  mats,  and  I  climbed 
the  bank  to  IUOK.  at  the  place,  but  there  was  nothing  in  the 
view  to  tempt  me  to  enter.  During  the  day  we  stopped  at  an 
island  in  the  river,  to  buy  some  vegetables.  Two  men  were 
guarding  a  large  patch  of  ripe  melons  and  cucumbers,  behind 
which  extended  fields  of  dourra,  divided  by  hedges  of  a  kind 
of  shrub  cypress,  all  overgrown  with  a  purple  convolvulus  in 
flower,  and  a  wild  gourd-vine,  with  bright  yellow  blossoms. 
In  wandering  through  the  luxuriant  mazes  of  vegetation,  I 
came  upon  a  dwelling  of  the  natives — a  nest  or  arbor,  scooped 
out  of  a  thick  clump  of  shrubs,  and  covered  with  dry  branches. 
It  resembled  the  milpas,  or  brush-huts  of  the  Mexican  ranche- 
ros.  The  only  furniture  was  a  frame  of  palm-sticks,  serving 


222  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA 

as  a  divan,  and  four  stones,  arranged  so  as  to  form  a  fire-place 
On  returning  to  the  shore,  I  found  Achmet  in  dispute  with 
the  two  men.  He  had  taken  some  melons,  for  which  he  offer- 
ed them  two  and  a  half  piastres.  They  demanded  more,  but 
as  he  had  purchased  melons  for  less  in  El  Mekheyref,  he  re 
fused,  and  giving  them  the  money,  took  the  melons  perforce 
''  Well/'  said  they,  "  you  are  our  masters,  and  we  must  sub- 
mit ;"  but  they  would  sell  no  more  to  my  sailors.  The  latter, 
however,  procured  a  bowl  of  treacle,  made  of  dates,  and  some 
sour  milk,  at  mother  hut,  and  were  contented  therewith.  The 
beau-fields  along  the  shore  had  just  been  trampled  down  by  a 
hippopotamus,  whose  huge  foot-prints  we  saw  in  the  soft  mud 
near  the  water. 

All  day,  we  sailed  between  j-hores  of  vegetation,  of  the 
ripest  green.  Both  banks  of  the  river,  through  this  region, 
are  studded  with  water-wheels,  whose  creaking  ceases  not  by 
day  nor  by  night.  It  was  pleasant  to  see  the  strings  of  jars 
ascending  and  descending,  and  to  hear  the  cool  plashing  cf  the 
precious  blood  of  the  Nile,  as  it  poured  into  the  branching 
veins  which  are  the  life  of  that  teeming  soil.  The  wheels 
were  turned  by  oxen,  driven  by  Dinka  slaves,  who  sang  vo- 
ciferous melodies  the  while,  and  the  water  was  conveyed  to 
fields  distant  from  the  river  in  the  hollow  trunks  of  the  doum- 
tree. 

There,  where  I  expected  to  sail  through  a  wilderness,  I 
found  a  garden.  Ethiopia  might  become,  in  other  hands,  the 
richest  and  most  productive  part  of  Africa.  The  people  are 
industrious  and  peaceable,  and  deserve  better  masters.  Theii 
dread  of  the  Turks  is  extreme,  and  so  is  their  hatred.  I  stop- 
Ded  one  evening  at  a  little  village  on  the  western  bank  Th« 


8CBNERY    AND    INHABITANTS.  228 

sailors  were  sent  to  the  houses  to  procure  fowls  and  eggs,  and 
after  a  long  time  two  men  appeared,  bringing,  as  they  said,  the 
only  chicken  in  the  place.  They  came  up  slowly,  stooped  and 
touched  the  ground,  and  then  laid  their  hands  on  their  heads, 
signifying  that  they  were  as  dust  before  my  feet.  Achmet 
paid  them  the  thirty  paras  they  demanded,  and  when  they  saw 
that  the  supposed  Turks  had  no  disposition  to  cheat  them,  they 
went  back  and  brought  more  fowls.  Travellers  who  go  by  the 
laud  routes  give  the  people  an  excellent  character  for  hospital- 
ity. I  was  informed  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  buy  any- 
thing, even  when  double  the  value  of  the  article  is  tendered, 
but  by  asking  for  it  as  a  favor,  they  will  cheerfully  give  what- 
ever they  have. 

When  I  crept  out  of  my  tent  on  the  third  morning,  the  fea- 
tures of  the  scenery  were  somewhat  changed.  A  blue  chain 
of  hills,  which  we  had  passed  in  the  night,  lay  behind  us,  and 
a  long,  graceful  mountain  range  rose  on  the  right,  broken  by  a 
pass  which  was  cut  through  it  at  right  angles  to  its  course. 
The  mountains  retreated  out  of  my  horizon  during  the  fore- 
noon, but  in  the  afternoon  again  approached  nearly  to  the 
water's  edge,  on  the  eastern  bank.  They  were  of  a  dark-red 
color,  exhibiting  a  broken,  mound-like  formation.  We  passed 
several  islands  during  the  day — beds  of  glorious  vegetation. 
The  sakias  were  turning  at  intervals  of  a  hundred  yards  or 
less,  and  the  rustling  fields  of  wheat  and  dourra  seemed  burst- 
ing  with  the  fulness  of  their  juices.  I  now  began  to  notice 
that  warm  vermilion  tinge  of  the  clouds,  which  is  frequently 
exhibited  near  the  Equator,  but  is  nowhere  so  striking  as  in 
Central  Africa.  Lying  heavily  along  the  horizon,  in  the  warm 
hours  of  the  day,  they  appeared  to  glow  with  a  dead,  smould- 


924  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

ering  fire,  like  brands  which  are  soft  white  ashes  on  tbe  out 
Bide,  but  living  coals  within. 

On  the  same  day  I  saw  the  first  hippopotamus.  The  mec 
discerned  him  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off,  as  he  came  up  to 
breathe,  and  called  my  attention  to  him.  Our  vessel  was  rue 
towards  him,  and  the  sailors  shouted,  to  draw  his  attention : 
"  How  is  your  wife,  old  boy  ?  "  "  Is  your  son  married  yet  ?  " 
and  other  like  exclamations.  They  insisted  upon  it  that  his 
curiosity  would  be  excited  by  this  means,  and  he  would  allow 
us  to  approach.  I  saw  him  at  last  within  a  hundred  yards,  but 
only  the  enormous  head,  which  was  more  than  three  feet  in 
breadth  across  the  ears.  He  raised  it  with  a  tremendous  snort, 
opening  his  huge  mouth  at  the  same  time,  and  I  thought  I  had 
never  seen  a  more  frightful-looking  monster.  He  came  up  in 
our  wake,  after  we  had  passed,  and  followed  us  for  some  time. 
Directly  afterwards  we  spied  five  crocodiles  on  a  sand-bank. 
One  of  them  was  of  a  grayish-yellow  color,  and  upward  of 
( twenty  feet  in  length.  We  approached  quietly  to  within  a  few 
yards  of  them,  when  my  men  raised  their  poles  and  shouted. 
The  beasts  started  from  their  sleep  and  dashed  quickly  into 
the  water,  the  big  yellow  one  striking  so  violently  against  our 
hull,  that  I  am  sure  he  went  off  with  a  head-ache.  The  natives 
have  many  superstitions  concerning  the  hippopotamus,  and  re- 
lated to  me  some  astonishing  examples  of  his  cunning  and 
sagacity.  Among  others,  they  asserted  that  an  Arab  woman, 
at  Abou-Hammed,  went  down  to  the  river  to  wash  some  clothes, 
once  upon  a  time.  She  laid  the  garments  upon  some  smooth 
stones,  and  was  engaged  in  trampling  them  with  her  feet,  when 
a  huge  hippopotamus  thrust  his  head  out  of  the  river,  and  after 
watching  her  for  some  time,  made  for  the  shore.  The  woman 


MT   MAP.  22JI 

Bed  in  terror  leaving  the  clothes  behind  her ;  whereupon  the 
beast  immediately  took  her  place,  and  pounded  away  BO  vig- 
orously with  his  feet,  that  in  a  short  time  there  was  not  left 
»  fragment  as  big  as  your  hand. 

On  making  inquiries  for  the  ruins  of  Meroe,  which  we  were 
then  approaching,  the  rais  only  knew  that  there  were  some 
"beioot  kadeem"  (ancient  houses)  near  the  village  of  Bedjer- 
owiyeh,  which  we  would  probably  reach  that  night.  As  I  found 
on  my  map  a  name  which  nearly  corresponded  to  that  of  the 
village,  I  had  no  doubt  that  this  was  Meroe,  and  gave  orders 
that  the  boat  should  halt  until  the  next  day.  The  rais  was 
greatly  surprised  at  my  knowing  the  names  of  all  the  towns 
along  the  river,  seeing  that  I  had  never  been  there  before.  1 
showed  him  my  map,  and  told  him  that  I  knew  from  it,  the 
name  of  every  mountain,  every  village,  and  every  river,  from 
Cairo  to  Abyssinia.  The  men  crowded  around  and  inspected 
it  with  the  utmost  astonishment,  and  when  I  pointed  out  to 
them  the  location  of  Mecca,  and  read  them  the  names  of  all 
the  villages  as  far  as  Khartoum,  they  regarded  it  with  an  ex- 
pression of  reverential  awe.  "  Wallah  ! "  exclaimed  the  rais : 
"  this  is  truly  a  wonderful  Frank  ! " 

My  rais,  whose  name  was  Bakhid,  belonged,  with  his  men, 
to  the  Nubian  tribe  of  Mahass,  below  Dongola.  They  were 
tall,  well-formed  men,  with  straight  features  and  high  cheek 
bones,  but  the  lips  were  thicker  than  those  of  the  Arab  tribes 
of  Ethiopia.  The  latter  are  of  almost  pure  Shemitic  blood, 
and  are  descended  from  families  which  emigrated  into  Africf 
from  the  Hedjaz,  seven  or  eight  centuries  ago.  This  accounts 
for  the  prevalence  and  purity  of  the  Arab  language  in  these 
regions.  The  descendants  of  the  Djaaleyn,  or  tribe  of  Benj 
10* 


826  JOURNEY    TO    CKNTKAL    AFRICA. 

Koreish,  of  Yemen,  are  still  to  be  found  in  the  country  of  the 
Atbara,  and  there  are  those  in  Ethiopia,  who  claim  to  be  de- 
scendants from  the  line  of  the  Abbasides  and  the  Oinmiades 
There  has  been  very  little  intermixture  with  the  negro  races 
beyond  Sennaar,  who  are  looked  upon  as  little  better  than  wild 
beasts.  The  Arabic  language  is  spoken  from  the  Red  Sea  to 
the  borders  of  Dar-Fur  and  Bornou,  and  according  to  Burck- 
hardt,  the  prevalent  idioms  are  those  of  Hedjaz,  in  Arabia. 
The  distinction  between  the  descendants  of  the  old  Arab  stock, 
and  those  who,  like  the  Ababdehs  and  Bisharees,  belong  to  the 
native  African  races,  is  obvious  to  the  most  careless  observer. 
The  latter,  however,  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  Negro 
race,  from  which  they  differ  still  more  widely. 

Rais  Bakhid  had  with  him  a  son  named  Ibrahim — a  boy 
of  twelve.  His  head  was  shaven  so  as  to  leave  a  circular  tuf< 
of  hair  on  the  crown ;  large  silver  rings  hung  from  his  ears, 
and  each  cheek  was  adorned  with  four  broad  scars — three  hori- 
zontal, and  one  vertical, — which  were  produced  by  gashing  the 
skin  with  a  knife,  and  then  raising  the  flesh  so  as  to  prevent 
the  edges  from  uniting.  All  the  Nubian  tribes  are  scarred  in 
the  same  way,  frequently  upon  the  breast  and  back  as  well  as 
the  face,  and  the  number  and  position  of  the  marks  is  generally 
a  token  of  the  particular  tribe  to  which  the  person  belongs. 
The  slaves  brought  from  the  mountains  of  Fazogl,  on  the 
Abyssinian  frontier,  have  a  still  greater  profusion  of  these  bar- 
baric ornaments.  I  had  another  Mahassee  on  board-  a  fellow 
of  five  and  twenty,  named  Beshir,  who  kept  all  the  others  in  a 
continual  laugh  with  his  droll  sayinga  He  spoke  the  dialect 
of  his  tribe,  not  a  word  of  which  I  could  understand,  but  his 
fape  and  voice  were  so  comical,  that  I  laughed  involuntarily, 


THE  SLAVE  BAKHITA.  227 

whenever  he  spoke.  He  was  a  graceless  fellow,  given  to  all 
sorts  of  debauchery,  and  was  never  so  happy  as  when  he  could 
drink  his  fill  of  om  bilbil,  (the  "  mother  of  nightingales,")  as 
the  beer  of  the  country  is  called,  because  he  who  drinks  it, 
sings. 

Another  curious  character  was  an  old  woman  named  Bak- 
hita,  a  slave  of  the' owner  of  the  vessel,  who  acted  as  cook  for 
the  sailors.  She  sat  squatted  on  the  forward  deck  all  day, 
hideously  and  nakedly  ugly,  but  performed  her  duties  so  regu 
larly  and  with  such  a  contented  face,  laughing  heartily  at  all 
the  jokes  which  the  men  made  at  her  expense,  that  I  soon  learn- 
ed to  tolerate  her  presence,  which  was  at  first  disgusting.  She 
was  a  native  of  the  mountains  of  Dar-Fur,  but  had  been  captur 
ed  by  the  slave-hunters  when  a  child.  She  was  in  Shendy  on 
the  night  when  Ismail  Pasha  and  his  soldiers  w<$re  burned  to 
death  by  Mek  Nemr,  in  the  year  1822.  But  with  all  my  ques- 
tioning, she  could  give  no  account  of  the  scene,  and  it  was  a 
marvel  that  she  remembered  it  at  all.  Life  was  to  her  a 
blank  page,  and  what  one  day  might  write  upon  it,  the  next 
day  erased.  She  sat  from  morning  till  night,  grinding  the 
dourra  between  two  flat  stones,  precisely  as  the  Mexican  women 
grind  their  maize,  occasionally  rubbing  her  hands  upon  her 
woolly  head  to  rid  them  of  the  paste.  Her  only  trouble  was 
my  white  sheep,  which,  in  its  search  after  food,  would  deliber- 
ately seize  her  mealy  top-knots  and  begin  to  chew  them.  Her 
yells,  at  such  times,  were  the  signal  for  a  fresh  attack  of  Be- 
ehir's  drollery.  Yet  old,  and  ugly,  andimbruted  as  she  was,  no 
Prankish  belle,  whose  bloom  is  beginning  to  wane,  could  have 
been  more  sensitive  about  her  age.  I  was  delighted  to  find 
this  touch  of  vanity  in  her ;  it  was  the  only  trace  of  feminine 


.'28  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

nature  she  ever  betrayed.  Beshir's  declaration  that  she  was  a 
hundred  and  fifty  years  old,  roused  her  to  fury.  She  rose  up, 
turned  to  me  with  a  face  so  hideously  distorted  that  I  could 
not  laugh  at  it,  and  yelled  out :  "  Look  at  me,  0  my  lord  !  and 
tell  me  if  this  son  of  a  dog  speaks  the  truth  ! "  "  He  lies, 
Bakhita,"  I  answered ;  "  I  should  say  that  you  were  not  more 
than  thirty  years  old."  The  fury  of  her  face  was  instantly  re- 
placed by  a  simper  of  vanity  which  made  it  even  more  hideous; 
but  from  that  time  Bakhita  considered  me  as  her  friend.  Be- 
ehir,  who  never  missed  an  opportunity  of  hailing  the  people  on 
shore,  called  out  one  day  to  a  damsel  who  came  down  to  the 
river  for  water  :  "  Here  is  your  sister  on  board."  The  ami- 
able maiden,  not  at  all  pleased  with  the  comparison,  rejoined 
M  Am  I  sister  to  a  hyena  ?  "• — a  compliment,  over  which  the 
old  woman  chuckled  for  a  long  time. 

The  wind  fell  at  sunset,  when  we  were  about  seven  miles! 
from  Meroe,  and  while  the  sailors  moored  the  boat  to  the  shore 
and  built  a  fire  to  cook  the  head  and  ribs  of  my  sheep,  I  climb- 
ed the  bank,  to  get  a  sight  of  the  country.  As  far  as  I  could 
see,  the  soil  was  cultivated,  principally  with  cotton  and  dourra. 
The  cotton  was  both  in  flower  and  pod,  and  was  of  excellent 
quality.  Achmet  and  I  visited  a  water-mill,  under  the  charge 
of  a  Dinka  slave,  who  came  up  humbly  and  kissed  our  hands. 
We  commanded  him  to  go  on  with  his  work,  when  he  took  his 
seat  on  the  beam  of  the  wheel  and  drove  his  cows  around,  to 
the  accompaniment  of  a  loud,  shrill  song,  which,  at  a  distance 
harmonized  strangely  with  the  cry  of  the  jackal,  in  the  deserts 
away  beyond  the  river. 


MKROK.  22!) 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE       RUINS       Of       MEBOB. 

lrriv«l  at  Be.1jeiowlyeh— The  Ruins  of  Merot— Walk  A  cross  the  Plain— Tbe  PJT» 
mids — Character  of  thetr  Masonry — The  lower  and  Vault — Finding  of  the  Trea- 
sure— The  Second  Group — More  Eulns— Site  of  the  City — Number  of  the  Pyrainidi 
—The  Antiquity  of  MeroS — Ethiopian  and  Egyptian  Civilization— The  Caucasian 
Race — Reflections. 

A  LIGHT  breeze  sprang  up  soon  after  midnight,  and  when  I 
arose,  at  sunrise,  we  were  approaching  the  village  of  Bedjer- 
owiyeh.  By  the  time  coffee  was  ready,  the  America  was  moor- 
ed at  the  landing-place,  and  Rais  Bakhid,  who  was  familiar 
with  all  the  localities,  stood  in  waiting.  Achmet,  with  Beshir 
and  another  sailor,  also  accompanied  me.  We  crossed  some 
fields  of  cotton  and  dookhn  to  the  village,  which  was  a  cluster 
of  tokuls,  or  circular  huts  of  mud  and  sticks,  in  a  grove  of 
sont  trees.  The  rais  tried  to  procure  a  donkey  for  me,  but  the 
people,  who  took  me  for  an  Egyptian,  and  appeared  very  timo- 
rous and  humble,  denied  having  any,  although  I  saw  two  half- 
itarved  beasts  among  the  trees.  We  therefore  set  out  on  foot, 
toward  a  range  of  mountains,  about  five  miles  distant. 

The  discovery  of  the  ruins  of  Meroe  is  of  comparatively 
recent  date,  and  it  is  only  within  a  very  short  time  that  theii 


230  JOUANEY   TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

true  character  and  place  in  Ethiopian  history  have  been  sati» 
factorily  established.  Hoskins,  Cailliaud  and  Ferlini  were  the 
first  to  direct  the  attention  of  antiquarians  to  this  quarter,  and 
the  later  and  more  complete  researches  of  Lepsius  leave  room 
for  little  more  to  be  discovered  concerning  them.  It  is  re- 
markable that  both  Bruce  and  Burckhardt,  who  travelled  by 
/and  from  Berber  to  Shendy,  failed  to  see  the  ruins,  which 
must  have  been  visible  from  the  road  they  followed.  The  for- 
mer, in  fact,  speaks  of  the  broken  pedestals,  carved  stones  and 
pottery  which  are  scattered  over  the  plain,  and  sagely  says . 
"  It  is  impossible  to  avoid  risking  a  guess  that  this  is  the  an- 
cient city  of  Meroe" — but  he  does  not  mention  the  groups  of 
pyramids  which  are  so  conspicuous  a  feature  in  the  landscape. 

Our  path  led  over  a  plain  covered  with  thorny  shrubs  at 
first,  but  afterwards  hard  black  gravel,  and  we  had  not  gone 
more  than  a  mile  before  the  rai's  pointed  out  the  pyramids  of 
the  ancient  Ethiopian  city.  I  knew  it  only  from  its  mention 
in  history,  and  had  never  read  any  description  of  its  remains; 
consequently  I  was  surprised  to  see  before  me,  in  the  vapory 
morning  air,  what  appeared  to  be  the  ruins  of  pylae  and  porti- 
cos, as  grand  and  lofty  as  those  of  Karnak.  Rising  between 
us  and  the  mountains,  they  had  an  imposing  effect,  and  I  ap- 
proached them  with  excited  anticipations.  As  we  advanced 
however,  and  the  morning  vapors  melted  away,  I  found  that 
they  derived  much  of  their  apparent  height  from  the  hill  upon 
which  they  are  built,  and  that,  instead  of  being  the  shattered 
parts  of  one  immense  temple,  they  were  a  group  of  separate 
pyramids,  standing  amid  the  ruins  of  others  which  have  been 
Completely  destroyed. 

We  reached  them  after  a  walk  of  about  four  miles.     Thej 


THE    I'VKAMIDS.  -'•>  1 

stand  up.m  a  narrow,  crescent-shaped  bill,  which  rises  forty  01 
fifty  feet  from  the  plaiu,  presenting  its  convex  front  to  the 
Nile,  while  toward  the  east  its  hollow  curve  embraces  a  small 
valley  lying  between  it  and  the  mountain  range.  Its  ridge  is 
crowned  with  a  long  line  of  pyramids,  standing  so  close  to  each 
other  that  their  bases  almost  meet,  but  presenting  no  regular 
plan  or  association,  except  in  the  direction  of  their  faces.  None 
of  them  retains  its  apex/  and  they  are  all  more  ov  less  ruined, 
though  two  are  perfect  to  within  a  few  courses  of  the  top.  I 
climbed  one  of  the  highest,  from  which  I  could  overlook  the 
whole  group,  as  well  as  another  cluster,  which  crowned  the 
summit  of  a  low  ridge  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains  opposite. 
Of  those  among  which  I  stood,  there  were  sixteen,  in  different 
degrees  of  ruin,  besides  the  shapeless  stone-heaps  of  many 
more,  They  are  all  built  of  fine  red  sandstone,  in  regular 
courses  of  masonry,  the  spaces  of  which  are  not  filled,  or  cased, 
as  in  the  Egyptian  pyramids,  except  at  the  corners,  which  are 
covered  with  a  narrow  hem  or  moulding,  in  order  to  give  a 
smooth  outline.  The  stones  are  about  eighteen  inches  high, 
and  the  recession  of  each  course  varies  from  two  to  four  inches, 
BO  that  the  height  of  the  structure  is  always  much  greater  than 
the  breadth  of  tho  base.  A  peculiarity  of  these  pyramids  is. 
that  the  sides  are  not  straight  but  cufved  lines,  of  different 
degrees  of  convexity,  and  the  Breadth  of  the  courses  of  stone 
is  adjusted  with  the  utmost  nicety,  so  as  to  produce  this  form. 
They  are  small,  compared  with  the  enormous  piles  of  Gizeh 
and  Dashoor,  but  singularly  graceful  and  elegant  in  appearance 
Not  one  of  the  group  is  more  than  seventy  feet  in  height,  noi 
when  complete  could  have  exceeded  one  hundred. 

All  or  nearly  all  have  a  small  chamber  attached  to  the  e*- 


232  JOURNEY  TO  CENTRAL  AFRIC  4. 

terior,  exactly  against  the  centre  of  their  eastern  sides,  but  no 
passage  leading  into  the  interior;  and  from  the  traces  of  Dr, 
Lepsius's  labors,  by  which  I  plainly  saw  that  he  had  attempt- 
ed in  vain  to  find  an  entrance,  it  is  evident  that  they  are  mere- 
ly solid  piles  of  masonry,  and  that,  if  they  were  intended  a» 
tombs,  the  bodies  were  deposited  in  the  outer  chambers.  Some 
of  these  chambers  are  entire,  except  the  roof,  and  their  wall? 
are  profusely  sculptured  with  hieroglyphics,  somewhat  blurred 
and  worn  down,  from  the  effect  of  the  summer  rains.  Their 
entrances  resembled  the  doorways  of  temples,  on  a  miniature 
scale,  and  the  central  stones  of  two  of  them  were  sculptured 
with  the  sacred  winged  globe.  I  saw  on  the  jamb  of  another 
a  figure  of  the  god  Horus.  The  chambers  were  quite  small, 
and  not  high  enough  to  allow  me  to  stand  upright.  The  sculp- 
tures have  a  very  different  character  from  those  in  the  tombs 
of  Thebes,  and  their  resemblance  to  those  of  the  Ptolemaic 
period  was  evident  at  the  first  glance.  The  only  cartouches  of 
monarchs  which  I  found  were  so  obliterated  that  I  could  not 
identify  them,  but  the  figure  of  one  of  the  kings,  grasping  in 
one  hand  the  hair  of  a  group  of  captives,  while  with  the  other 
he  lifts  a  sword  to  slay  them,  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to 
that  of  Ptolemy  Euergetes,  on  the  pylon  of  the  temple  at 
Edfou.  Many  of  the  Atones  in  the  vast  heaps  which  lie  scat- 
tered over  the  hills,  are  covered  with  sculptures.  I  found  on 
some  the  winged  globe  and  scarabeiis,  while  others  retained  the 
scroll  or  fillet  which  usually  covers  the  sloping  corners  of  a 
pylon.  On  the  northern  part  of  the  hill  I  found  several  blocks 
of  limestone,  which  exhibited  a  procession  of  seilpturtsd  figures 
Brilliantly  colored. 

The  last  structure  on  the  southern  extremity  of  the  hill  v 


fHB    FINDING    OF   THE    TREASURE.  233 

rather  a  tower  than  a  pyramid,  consisting  of  a  high  base  01 
foundation,  upon  which  is  raised  a  square  building,  the  corners 
presenting  a  very  slight  slope  towards  the  top,  which  is  cover- 
ed with  ruins,  indicating  that  there  was  criginally  another  and 
narrower  story  upon  it.  When  complete,  it  must  have  borne 
considerable  resemblance  to  the  Assyrian  towers,  the  remains 
of  which  are  found  at  Nineveh.  On  this  part  of  the  hill  there 
are  many  small  detached  chambers,  all  facing  the  east,  and  the 
remains  of  a  large  building.  Here  Lepsius  appears  to  have 
expended  most  of  his  labors,  and  the  heaps  of  stone  and  rub- 
bish he  has  left  behind  him  prevent  one  from  getting  a  very 
clear  idea  of  the  original  disposition  of  the  buildings.  He  has 
quarried  one  of  the  pyramids  down  to  its  base,  without  finding 
any  chamber  within  or  pit  beneath  it.  My  rais,  who  was  at  a 
loss  to  comprehend  the  object  of  my  visit,  spoke  of  Lepsius  as  a 
great  Frank  astrologer,  who  had  kept  hundreds  of  the  people  at 
work  for  many  days,  and  at  last  found  in  the  earth  a  multitude 
of  chickens  and  pigeons,  all  of  solid  gold.  He  then  gave  the 
people  a  great  deal  of  backsheesh  and  went  away,  taking  the 
golden  fowls  with  him.  The  most  interesting  object  he  has 
revealed  is  a  vaulted  room,  about  twenty  feet  long,  which  the 
rais  pointed  out  as  the  place  where  the  treasures  were  found, 
It  is  possible  that  he  here  referred  to  the  discoveries  made 
about  twenty  years  ago  by  Ferlini,  who  excavated  a  great 
quantity  of  rings  and  other  ornaments — Greek  and  Roman,  as 
well  as  Ethiopian — which  are  now  in  the  Museum  at  Berlin. 
The  ceiling  of  this  vault  is  on  the  true  principle  of  the  arch, 
with  a  keystone  in  the  centre,  which  circumstance,  as  well  at 
..he  character  of  the  sculptures,  would  seem  to  fix  the  age  of 
the  pyramids  at  a  little  more  than  two  thousand  years. 


234  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

I  took  a  sketch  of  this  remarkable  cluster  of  ruins  from 
their  northern  cud,  and  afterwards  another  from  the  valley  be 
low,  whence  each  pyramid  appears  distinct  and  separate,  nc 
one  covering  the  other.  The  rais  and  sailors  were  puzzled 
what  to  make  of  my  inspection  of  the  place,  but  finally  con 
eluded  that  I  hoped  to  find  a  few  golden  pigeons,  which  the 
Frank  astrologer  had  not  carried  away.  I  next  visited  the 
eastern  group,  which  consists  of  ten  pyramids,  more  or  less  di- 
lapidated, and  the  ruined  foundations  of  six  or  eight  more. 
The  largest,  which  I  ascended,  consists  of  thirty-five  courses 
of  stone,  and  is  about  fifty-three  feet  in  height,  eight  or  ten 
feet  of  the  apex  having  been  hurled  down.  Each  side  of  the 
apex  is  seventeen  paces,  or  about  forty-two  feet  long,  and  the 
angle  of  ascent  is  consequently  much  greater  than  in  the  pyra- 
mids of  Egypt.  On  the  slope  of  the  hill  are  the  substructions 
of  two  or  three  large  buildings,  of  which  sufiicient  remains  to 
show  the  disposition  of  the  chambers  and  the  location  of  the 
doorways.  Towards  the  south,  near  where  the  valley  inclosed 
between  the  two  groups  opens  upon  the  plain,  are  the  remains 
of  other  pyramids  and  buildings,  and  some  large,  fortress-like 
ruins  are  seen  on  the  summits  of  the  mountains  to  the  East. 
I  would  willingly  have  visited  them,  but  the  wind  was  blowing 
fresh,  and  the  rais  was  impatient  to  get  back  to  his  vessel. 
Many  of  the  stones  of  the  pyramids  are  covered  with  rude  at 
tempts  at  sculpturing  camels  and  horses ;  no  doubt  by  the 
Arabs,  for  they  resemble  a  school-boy's  first  drawings  on  a 
elate — straight  sticks  for  legs,  squares  for  bodies,  and  triangles 
for  humps. 

Leaving  the  ruins  to  the  company  of  the  black  goats  that 
irere  browsing  on  the  dry  grass,  growing  in  bunches  at  theii 


SITE    OP    THE    ANCIENT    CITY.  235 

eastern  base,  1  walked  to  another  group  of  pyramids,  which  laj 
a  mile  and  a  half  to  the  south-west,  towards  the  Nile.  As  wt 
approached  them,  a  herd  of  beautiful  gray  gazelles  started 
from  among  the  stones  and  bounded  away  into  the  Desert 
''  These  were  the  tents  of  the  poor  people,"  said  the  rais, 
pointing  to  the  pyramids :  "  the  Frank  found  no  golden  pi- 
geons here."  They  were,  in  fact,  smaller  and  more  dilapidated 
than  the  others.  Some  had  plain  burial  chambers  attached  to 
their  eastern  sides,  but  the  sculptures  were  few  and  insignifi- 
cant. There  were  sixteen  in  all,  more  or  less  ruined.  Scat- 
tering mounds,  abounding  with  fragments  of  bricks  and  build- 
ing-stones, extended  from  these  ruins  nearly  to  the  river's  bank, 
a  distance  of  more  than  two  miles;  and  the  foundations  of 
many  other  pyramids  might  be  seen  among  them.  The  total 
Dumber  of  pyramids  in  a  partial  state  of  preservation — some 
being  nearly  perfect,  while  a  few  retained  only  two  or  three  of 
the  lower  courses — which  I  counted  on  the  site  of  Meroe,  was 
forty-two.  Besides  these,  I  noticed  the  traces  of  forty  01 
fifty  others,  which  had  been  wholly  demolished.  The  entire 
number,  however,  of  which  Meroe  could  boast,  in  its  prime, 
was  one  hundred  and  ninety-six.  The  mounds  near  the 
river,  which  cover  an  extent  of  between  one  and  two  milef , 
point  out  the  site  of  the  city,  the  capital  of  the  old  Hierarchy 
of  Meroe,  and  the  pyramids  are  no  doubt  the  tombs  of  its 
kings  and  priests.  It  is  rather  singular  that  the  city  has  been 
BO  completely  destroyed,  as  the  principal  spoilers  of  Egypt, 
the  Persians,  never  penetrated  into  Ethiopia,  and  there  is  nc 
evidence  of  the  stones  having  beon  used  to  any  extent  by  the 
Arabs,  as  building  materials. 

The  examination  of  Meroe  has  solved  the  doubtful  qu«6- 


£36  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

tion  of  an  Ethiopian  civilization  anterior  to  that  of  Egypt 
Hoskins  and  Cailliaud,  who  attributed  a  great  antiquity  to  the 
ruins,  were  misled  by  the  fact,  discovered  by  Lepsius,  that  the 
Ethiopian  monarchs  adopted  as  their  own,  and  placed  upon 
their  tombs  the  nomens  of  the  earlier  Pharaohs.  It  is  now 
established  beyond  a  doubt,  that,  so  far  from  being  the  oldest, 
these  are  the  latest  remains  of  Egyptian  art ;  their  inferiority 
displays  its  decadence,  and  not  the  rude,  original  type,  whence 
it  sprang.  Starting  from  Memphis,  where  not  only  the  oldest 
Egyptian,  but  the  oldest  human  records  yet  discovered,  are 
found,  the  era  of  civilization  becomes  later,  as  you  ascend  the 
Nile.  In  Nubia,  there  are  traces  of  Thothmes  and  Amunoph 
ILL,  or  about  fifteen  centuries  before  the  Christian  era;  at 
Napata,  the  ancient  capital  of  Ethiopia,  we  cannot  get  beyond 
King  Tirhaka,  eight  centuries  later ;  while  at  Meroe,  there  is 
no  evidence  which  can  fix  the  date  of  the  pyramids  earlier  than 
the  first,  or  at  furthest,  the  second  century  before  Christ. 
Egypt,  therefore,  was  not  civilized  from  Ethiopia,  but  Ethio- 
pia from  Egypt. 

The  sculptures  at  Meroe  also  establish  the  important  fact 
that  the  ancient  Ethiopians,  though  of  a  darker  complexion 
than  the  Egyptians  (as  they  are  in  fact  represented,  in  Egyp- 
tian sculpture),  were,  like  them,  an  offshoot  of  the  great  Cau- 
casian race.*  Whether  they  were  originally  emigrants  from 

*  In  the  Letters  of  Lepsius,  which  were  not  published  until  aftei 
my  return  from  Africa,  I  find  the  fo'lowing  passage,  the  truth  of  which 
is  supported  by  all  the  evidence  we  possess:  "The  Ethiopian  nam« 
comprehended  much  that  was  dissimilar,  among  the  ancients.  The  an- 
cient population  of  the  whole  Kile  Valley  as  far  as  Khartoum,  and  per- 
b*pa,  also,  along  the  Blue  River,  as  well  as  the  tribes  of  the  Deceit  to 


THE    CAUCASIAN    KACE    IN    ETHIOPIA.  237 

Northern  India  and  the  regions  about  Cashmere,  as  the  Egyp- 
tians are  supposed  to  have  been,  or,  like  the  Beni  Koreish  at 
a  later  period,  crossed  over  from  the  Arabian  Peninsula,  is  not 
HO  easily  determined.  The  theory  of  Pococke  and  other 
scholars,  based  on  the  presumed  antiquity  of  Meroe,  that  here 
was  the  first  dawning  on  African  soil  of  that  earliest  Indian 
Civilization,  which  afterwards  culminated  at  Memphis  and 
Thebes,  is  overthrown ;  but  we  have  what  is  of  still  greater 
significance — the  knowledge  that  the  highest  Civilization,  in 
every  age  of  the  world,  has  been  developed  by  the  race  to 
which  we  belong. 

I  walked  slowly  back  to  the  boat,  over  the  desolate  plain, 
striving  to  create  from  those  shapeless  piles  of  ruin  the  splen- 
dor of  which  they  were  once  a  part.  The  sun,  and  the  wind 
and  the  mountains,  and  the  Nile,  were  what  they  had  ever 
been  ;  but  where  the  kings  and  priests  of  Meroe  walked  in 
the  pomp  of  their  triumphal  processions,  a  poor,  submissive 
peasant  knelt  before  me  with  a  gourd  full  of  goat's  milk  ;  and 
if  I  had  asked  him  when  that  plain  had  been  inhabited,  he 
would  have  answered  me,  like  Chidhar,  the  Prophet :  •'  As 
thou  seest  it  now,  so  has  it  been  for  ever ! " 

the  east  of  the  Nile,  and  the  Abyssinian  nations,  were  in  former  times 
probably  even  more  distinctly  separated  from  the  negroes  than  nc  w,  an** 
belonged  to  the  Caucasian  Race." 


238 


JOUKNEY    TO    CKMR/.L    AFRICA. 


Moonlight  on  the  Ethiopian  Nile. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

ETHIOPIAN    NIGHTS'    ENTERTAINMENTS. 

Tho  Landscapes  of  Ethiopia — My  Evenings  beside  the  Nile — Experiences  of  the  Ar» 
Man  Nights— The  Story  of  the  Sultana  Zobeide  and  the  Wood-cutter— Character 
of  the  Arabian  Tales— Religion. 

44  For  it  was  in  the  golden  prime 
Of  good  Haroun  Al-Easchid."— TsinrrBOW. 

WITH  my  voyage  on  the  Ethiopian  Nile  a  thread  of  romance 
was  woven,  which,  in  the  Oriental  mood  that  had  now  become 
native  to  me,  greatly  added  to  the  charm  of  the  journey.  My 
nights'  entertainments  were  better  than  the  Arabian.  The 
moon  was  at  the  full,  and  although,  during  the  day,  a  light 
north-wind  filled  my  sails,  it  invariably  fell  calm  at  sunset, 


KVKNING    ON     I'HE    NILE.  239 

and  remained  so  for  two  or  three  hours.  During  the  after* 
noon,  I  lay  stretched  on  my  carpet  on  the  deck,  lacking 
through  half-closed  eyes  on  the  glittering  river  and  his  banks. 
The  western  shore  was  one  long  bower  of  Paradise — so  green, 
no  bright,  so  heaped  with  the  deep,  cool  foliage  of  majestic 
sycamores  and  endless  clusters  of  palms.  I  had  seen  no  such 
beautiful  palms  since  leaving  Minyeh,  in  Lower  Egypt. 
There  they  were  taller,  but  had  not  the  exceeding  richness  and 
glory  of  these.  The  sun  shone  hot  in  a  cloudless  blue  heaven, 
arid  the  air  was  of  a  glassy,  burning  clearness,  like  that  which 
dwells  in  the  inmost  heart  of  fire.  The  colors  of  the  landscape 
were  as  if  enamelled  on  gold,  so  intense,  so  glowing  in  their  in- 
toxicating depth  and  splendor.  When,  at  last,  the  wind  fell — 
except  a  breeze  just  strong  enough  to  shake  the  creamy  odor 
out  of  the  purple  bean-blossoms — and  the  sun  went  down  in  a 
bed  of  pale  orange  light,  the  moon  came  ip  the  other  side  of 
heaven,  a  broad  disc  of  yellow  fire,  and  bridged  the  glassy 
Nile  with  her  beams. 

At  such  times,  I  selected  a  pleasant  spot  on  the  western 
bank  of  the  river,  where  the  palms  were  loftiest  and  most 
thickly  clustered,  and  had  the  boat  moored  to  the  shore. 
Achniet  then  spread  my  carpet  and  piled  my  cushions  on  the 
shelving  bank  of  white  sand,  at  the  foot  of  the  trees,  where,  as 
I  lay,  I  could  see  the  long,  feathery  leaves  high  above  iny 
head,  and  at  the  same  time  look  upon  the  broad  wake  of  the 
moon,  as  she  rose  beyond  the  Nile.  The  sand  was  as  fine  and 
soft  as  a  bed  of  down,  and  retained  an  agreeable  warmth  from 
the  sunshine  which  had  lain  upon  it  all  day.  As  we  rarely 
Halted  near  a  village,  there  was  no  sound  to  disturb  the  balmj 
repose  of  the  scene,  except,  now  and  then,  the  whine  of  a  jackal 


240  JOURNKY    TO    CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

prowling  along  the  edge  of  the  Desert  Achmet  crossed  bis 
legs  beside  me  on  the  sand,  and  Ali,  who  at  such  times  bad 
special  charge  of  my  pipe,  sat  at  my  feet,  ready  to  replenish  i< 
as  often  as  occasion  required.  My  boatmen,  after  gathering  dry 
palm-leaves  and  the  resinous  branches  of  the  mimosa,  kindled 
a  fire  beside  some  neighboring  patch  of  dookhn,  and  squatted 
around  it,  smoking  and  chatting  in  subdued  tones,  that  their 
gossip  might  not  disturb  my  meditations.  Their  white  tur- 
bans and  lean  dark  faces  were  brought  out  in  strong  relief 
by  the  red  fire-light,  and  completed  the  reality  of  a  picture 
which  was  more  beautiful  than  dreams. 

On  the  first  of  these  evenings,  after  my  pipe  had  been  filled 
for  the  third  time,  Achmet,  finding  that  1  showed  no  disposi- 
tion to  break  the  silence,  and  rightly  judging  that  I  would 
rather  listen  than  talk,  addressed  me.  "  Master,"  said  he,  "  I 
know  many  stories,  such  as  the  story-tellers  relate  in  the  cof- 
fee houses  of  Cairo.  If  you  will  give  me  permission,  I  will 
tell  you  some  which  I  think  you  will  find  diverting.'*  "  Ex- 
cellent ! "  said  I ;  "  nothing  will  please  me  better,  provided 
you  tell  them  in  Arabic.  This  will  be  more  agreeable  to  both 
of  us,  and  whenever  I  cannot  understand  your  words,  I  will 
interrupt  you,  and  you  shall  explain  them  as  well  as  you  can, 
in  English."  He  immediately  commenced,  and  while  those 
evening  calms  lasted,  I  had  such  a  living  experience  of  the 
Arabian  Nights,  as  would  have  seemed  to  me  a  greater  marvel 
than  any  they  describe,  had  it  been  foreshown  to  my  boyish 
vision,  when  I  first  hung  over  the  charmed  pages.  There,  in 
my  African  mood,  the  most  marvellous  particulars  seemed 
quite  real  and  natural,  and  I  enjoyed  those  flowers  of  Eastern 
romance  with  a  zest  unknown  before.  After  my  recent  reoep 


EXPERIENCES    OF    THE    ARABIAN    NIGHTS.  24i 

lion  as  a  king  of  the  Franks,  in  the  capital  of  Berber,  it  was 
not  difficult  to  imagine  myself  Shahriar,  the  Sultan  of  the  la- 
dies, especially  as  the  moon  showed  me  my  turbaned  shadow 
on  the  sand.  If  the  amber  mouth-piece  of  my  pipe  was  not 
studded  with  jewels,  and  if  the  zerf  which  held  my  coffee-cup 
was  brass  instead  of  gold,  it  was  all  the  same  by  moonlight. 
Achmct,  seated  on  the  sand,  a  little  below  my  throne,  was 
Sheherazade,  and  Ali,  kneeling  at  my  feet,  her  sister,  Dinar- 
zade ;  though,  to  speak  candidly,  my  imagination  could  not 
stretch  quite  so  far.  In  this  respect,  Shahriar  had  greatly  the 
advantage  of  me.  I  bitterly  felt  the  difference  between  my 
dusky  vizier,  and  his  vizier's  daughter.  Nor  did  Ali,  who  lis- 
tened to  the  stories  with  great  interest,  expressing  his  satisfac- 
tion occasionally  by  a  deep  guttural  chuckle,  ever  surprise  me 
by  saying :  "  If  you  are  not  asleep,  my  sister,  I  beg  of  you  to 
recount  to  ine  one  of  those  delightful  stories  you  know." 

Nevertheless,  those  nights  possessed  a  charm  which  sepa- 
rates them  from  all  other  nights  I  have  known.  The  storiee 
resembled  those  of  the  Arabian  tale  in  being  sometimes  pro- 
longed from  one  day  to  another.  One  of  them,  in  fact,  was 
"  Ganem,  the  Slave  of  Love,"  but,  as  told  by  Achmet,  differ- 
ing  slightly  from  the  English  version.  The  principal  story, 
however,  was  new  to  me,  and  as  I  am  not  aware  that  it  has  evei 
been  translated,  I  may  be  pardoned  for  telling  it  as  it  was  told 
to  me,  taking  the  liberty  to  substitute  my  own  words  for  Ach- 
met's  mixture  of  Arabic  and  English.  I  was  too  thoroughly 
given  up  to  the  pleasant  illusion,  to  note  down  the  story  at  the 
time,  and  I  regret  that  many  peculiarities  of  expression  have 
escaped  me,  which  then  led  me  to  consider  it  a  genuine  product 
of  the  age  which  produced  the  Thousand  and  One  Night* 
1*1 


242  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

"  You  already  know,  my  Master,"  Achmet  began,  "  that 
many  hundred  years  ago  all  the  people  of  Islam  were  governed 
by  a  caliph,  whose  capital  was  Baghdad,  and  I  doubt  not  that 
you  have  heard  of  the  great  Caliph,  Haroun  Al-Raschid,  who 
certainly  was  not  only  the  wisest  man  of  his  day,  but  the 
wisest  that  has  been  known  since  the  days  of  our  Prophet, 
Mohammed,  whose  name  be  exalted  !  It  rarely  happens  that 
a  wise  and  great  man  ever  finds  a  wife,  whose  wisdom  is  any 
match  for  his  own ;  for  as  the  wise  men  whom  Allah  sends 
upon  the  earth  are  few,  so  are  the  wise  women  still  fewer. 
But  herein  was  the  Caliph  favored  of  Heaven.  Since  the  days 
of  Balkis,  the  Queen  of  Sheba,  whom  even  the  prophet  Solo- 
mon could  not  help  but  honor,  there  was  no  woman  equal  in 
virtue  or  in  wisdom  to  the  Sultana  Zubeydeh  (Zobeide).  The 
Caliph  never  failed  to  consult  her  on  all  important  matters, 
and  her  prudence  and  intelligence  were  united  with  his,  in  the 
government  of  his  great  empire,  even  as  the  sun  and  moon  are 
sometimes  seen  shining  in  the  heavens  at  the  same  time. 

•'  But  do  not  imagine  that  Haroun  Al-Raschid  and  the 
Sultana  Zubeydeh  were  destitute  of  faults.  None  except  the 
Prophets  of  God — may  their  names  be  extolled  for  ever ! — were 
ever  entirely  just,  or  wise,  or  prudent.  The  Caliph  was  sub- 
ject to  fits  of  jealousy  and  mistrust,  which  frequently  led  him 
to  commit  acts  that  obliged  him,  afterwards,  to  eat  of  the  bit- 
ter fruit  of  repentance ;  and  as  for  Zubeydeh,  with  all  her 
wisdom  she  had  a  sharp  tongue  in  her  head,  and  was  often  so 
little  discreet  as  to  say  things  which  brought  upon  her  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful 

"  It  chanced  that,  once  upon  a  time,  they  were  both  seated 
in  a  window  of  the  hareem,  which  overlooked  one  of  the  streets 


THE    SULTANA    AND    THE    WOOD-OUTTKR.  243 

of  Baghdad.  The  Caliph  was  in  an  ill-humor,  for  a  beautiful 
Georgian  slave  whom  his  vizier  had  recently  brought  him,  haa 
disappeared  from  the  harem,  and  he  saw  in  this  the  work  of 
Zubeydeh,  who  was  always  jealous  of  any  rival  to  her  beauty. 
Now  as  they  were  sitting  there,  looking  down  into  the  street, 
a  poor  wood-cutter  came  along,  with  a  bundle  of  sticks  upon 
his  head.  His  body  was  lean  with  poverty,  and  his  only 
clothing  was  a  tattered  cloth,  bound  around  his  waist.  But 
the  most  wonderful  thing  was,  that  in  passing  through  the 
wood  where  he  had  collected  his  load,  a  serpent  had  seized 
him  by  the  heel,  but  his  feet  were  so  hardened  by  toil  that 
they  resembled  the  hoofs  of  a  camel,  and  he  neither  felt  the 
,eeth  of  the  serpent,  nor  knew  that  he  was  still  dragging  it 
after  him  as  he  walked.  The  Caliph  marvelled  when  he  be- 
held this,  but  Zubeydeh  exclaimed  :  '  See,  0  Commander  of 
the  Faithful !  there  is  the  man's  wife  1 '  '  What ! '  exclaim- 
ed Harouu,  with  sudden  wrath  :  '  Is  the  wife  then  a  serpent 
to  the  man,  which  stings  him  none  the  less  because  he  does  not 
feel  it  ?  Thou  serpent,  because  thou  hast  stung  me,  and  be- 
cause thou  hast  made  sport  of  the  honest  poverty  of  that  poor 
creature,  thou  shalt  take  the  serpent's  place  ! '  Zubeydeh  an- 
swered not  a  word,  for  she  knew  that  to  speak  would  but  in- 
crease the  Caliph's  anger.  Haroun  clapped  his  hands  thrice, 
and  presently  Mesrour,  his  chief  eunuch,  appeared.  '  Here 
Mesrour  ! '  said  he,  '  take  this  woman  with  thee,  follow  yonder 
wood-cutter,  and  present  her  to  him  as  his  wife,  whom  the  Ca- 
liph hath  ordered  him  to  accept.' 

"  Mesrour  laid  his  hands  upon  his  breast  and  bowed  his  head, 
in  token  of  obedience.  He  then  beckoned  to  Zubeydeh,  who 
rose,  covered  herself  with  a  veil  and  a  feridjee,  such  as  is  wore 


244  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AJ-KICA. 

by  the  wives  of  the  poor,  and  followed  him.  When  they  Lao 
ovei  taken  the  wood-cutter,  Mesrour  delivered  to  him  the  mes 
Bag<;  of  the  Caliph,  and  presented  to  him  the  veiled  Zubeydeh. 
'  There  is  "no  God  but  God ! '  said  the  poor  man  ;  '  hut  how 
can  I  support  a  wife — I,  who  can  scarcely  live  by  my  own  la- 
bors?' 'Dost  thou  dare  to  disobey  the  Commander  of  the 
Faithful  ? '  cried  Mesrour,  in  such  a  savage  tone,  that  the  man 
trembled  from  head  to  foot ;  but  Zubeydeh,  speaking  for  the 
first  time,  said  :  '  Take  me  with  thee,  0  Man !  since  it  is  the 
Caliph's  will.  I  will  serve  thee  faithfully,  and  perhaps  the 
buruen  of  thy  poverty  may  be  lightened  through  me.'  The 
man  thereupon  obeyed,  and  they  proceeded  together  to  his 
house,  which  was  in  a  remote  part  of  the  city.  There  were  but 
two  miserable  rooms,  with  a  roof  which  was  beginning  to  fall  in, 
from  decay.  The  wood-cutter,  having  thrown  down  his  bundle, 
went  out  to  the  bazaar,  purchased  some  rice  and  a  little  salt, 
und  brought  a  jar  of  water  from  the  fountain.  This  was  all  he 
could  afford,  and  Zubeydeh,  who  had  kindled  a  fire  in  the 
mean  time,  cooked  it  and  placed  it  before  him.  But  when  he 
would  have  had  her  raise  her  veil  and  sit  down  to  eat  with  him, 
she  refused,  saying :  '  I  have  promised  that  I  shall  not  increase 
the  burden  of  thy  poverty.  Promise  me,  in  return,  that  thou 
wilt  never  seek  to  look  upon  my  face,  nor  to  enter  that  room, 
which  I  have  chosen  for  my  apartment.  I  am  not  without 
learning,  0  Man !  and  if  thou  wilt  respect  my  wishes,  it  shall 
be  well  for  thee.' 

w  The  wood-cutter,  who  was  not  naturally  deficient  in  intel- 
ligence, perceived  from  the  words  of  Zubeydeh  that  she  was  a 
superior  person,  and,  judging  that  he  could  not  do  better  than 
to  follow  her  counsel,  promised  at  once  all  that  she  desired 


THB   SULTANA    AXL>    THIC    WOOD-CUTTBR.  245 

She  then  declared,  that  as  she  intended  to  take  charge  of  his 
household,  he  must  give  to  her,  every  evening,  all  the  money 
he  had  received  for  his  wood  during  the  day.  The  man  con 
sented  to  this  likewise,  produced  a  handful  of  copper  coiug, 
which  altogether  amounted  to  only  one  piastre — hut  you  must 
know,  my  master,  that  a  piastre,  in  the  days  of  Haroun  Al- 
Raschid,  was  four  or  five  times  as  much  as  it  is  now-a-days. 
Thus  they  lived  together  for  several  weeks,  the  wood-cutte) 
going  to  the  forest  every  day,  and  paying  his  gains  every  night 
into  the  hands  of  Zubeydeh,  who  kept  his  miserable  house  clean 
and  comfortable  and  prepared  his  food.  She  managed  things 
with  so  much  economy  that  she  was  enabled  to  save  two  paras 
every  day,  out  of  the  piastre  which  he  gave  her.  When  she 
had  amassed  twenty  piastres  in  this  way,  she  gave  them  to  the 
wood-cutter,  saying :  '  Go  now  to  the  market  and  buy  thee  an 
ass  with  this  money.  Thou  canst  thus  bring  home  thrice  as 
much  wood  as  before,  and  the  ass  can  subsist  upon  the  grass 
which  he  finds  in  the  forest,  and  which  costs  thee  nothing. 
'  By  Allah  ! '  exclaimed  the  wood-cutter ;  '  thou  art  a  won- 
derful woman,  and  I  will  obey  thee  in  every  thing.' 

"  He  forthwith  did  as  Zubeydeh  ordered,  and  was  now  en 
abled  to  give  her  three  or  four  piastres  every  evening.  She 
presented  him  with  a  more  decent  garment,  and  added  butter 
to  his  pillau  of  rice,  but  still  preserved  such  a  strict  economy, 
that  in  a  short  time  he  was  master  of  three  asses  instead  of 
one,  and  was  obliged  to  hire  a  man  to  assist  him  in  cutting 
wood.  One  evening,  as  the  asses  came  home  with  their  loads, 
Zubeydeh  remarked  that  the  wood  gave  out  a  grateful  fra- 
grance, like  that  of  musk  or  ambergris,  and  upon  examining  it 
more  closely,  she  found  that  it  was  a  most  precic  us  article— 


246  JODRNETT   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

in  fact,  that  it  had  been  cut  from  one  of  those  spicy  trees  which 
sprang  up  where  the  tears  of  Adam  fell  upon  the  Earth,  as  ho 
bewailed  his  expulsion  from  Paradise.  For  at  that  time  the 
juices  of  the  fruits  of  Paradise  still  remained  in  his  body,  and 
his  tears  were  flavored  by  them — which  was  the  cause  of  all 
the  spices  that  grow  in  the  lands  of  Serendib  and  India.  Zu- 
beydeh  asked  of  the  wood-cutter  :  '  To  whom  dost  thou  sell  this 
wood?'  and  from  his  answer  she  found  that  it  was  all  purchased 
by  some  Jewish  merchants,  who  gave  him  no  more  for  it  than 
for  the  common  wood  with  which  she  cooked  his  rice.  '  The 
accursed  Jews ! '  she  exclaimed :  '  Go  thou  to  them  immedi- 
ately, and  threaten  to  accuse  them  before  the  Cadi  of  defraud- 
ing a  son  of  the  Faith,  unless  they  agree  to  pay  thee  for  this 
wood  henceforth,  twelve  times  as  much  as  they  have  paid 
before ! ' 

"  The  man  lost  no  time  in  visiting  the  Jewish  merchants, 
who,  when  they  saw  that  their  fraud  had  been  discovered,  were 
greatly  alarmed,  and  immediately  agreed  to  pay  him  all  that 
he  demanded.  The  wood-cutter  now  brought  home  every 
night  three  donkey-loads  of  the  precious  wood,  and  paid  to 
Zubeydeh  from  one  to  two  hundred  piastres.  She  was  soon 
able  to  purchase  a  better  house,  where  she  not  only  gave  the 
man  more  nourishing  food,  but  sent  for  a  teacher  to  instruct 
aim  how  to  read  and  write.  He  had  so  improved  in  appear- 
ance by  this  time,  and  had  profited  so  well  by  the  wise  conver- 
sation of  Zubeydeh,  that  he  was  quite  like  another  person,  and 
those  who  had  known  him  in  his  poverty  no  longer  recognized 
him.  For  this  reason,  the  Caliph,  who  soon  repented  of  bit 
anger  towards  Zubeydeh  and  made  every  effort  to  recover  her, 
was  unable  to  find  any  trace  of  him.  Mesrour  sought  day  and 


THE    SULTANA    AND    THE    WOOD -CUTTER.  241) 

night  turough  the  streets  of  Baghdad,  but  as  Zubeydeh  nevei 
left  the  wood-cutter's  house,  all  his  search  was  in  vain,  and  the 
Caliph  was  like  one  distracted. 

"  One  day,  as  the  wood-cutter  was  on  his  way  to  the  forest, 
he  was  met  by  three  persons,  who  desired  to  hire  his  asses  for 
the  day.  '  But,'  said  he.  '  I  make  my  living  from  the  wood 
which  the  asses  carry  to  the  city.'  '  What  profit  do  you  make 
upon  each  load  ? '  asked  one  of  the  men.  '  If  it  is  a  good 
load,  I  often  make  fifty  piastres,'  answered  the  wood-cutter 
'  Well,'  said  the  men,  '  we  will  give  you  two  hundred  pias- 
tres as  the  hire  of  each  ass,  for  one  day.'  The  wood-cutter, 
who  had  not  expected  such  an  extraordinary  offer,  was  about 
to  accept  it  at  once,  when  he  reflected  that  he  had  obeyed  in 
all  things  the  advice  of  Zubeydeh,  and  ought  not  to  take  such 
a  step  without  her  consent.  He  thereupon  requested  the  men 
to  wait  while  he  returned  home  and  consulted  his  wife.  '  You 
have  done  right,  0  my  lord  ! '  said  Zubeydeh :  '  I  commend 
your  prudence,  and  am  quite  willing  that  you  should  accept 
the  offer  of  the  men,  as  the  money  will  purchase  other  asses 
and  repay  you  for  the  loss  of  the  day's  profit,  if  the  persons 
should  not  return.' 

"  Now  the  three  men  were  three  celebrated  robbers,  who  had 
amassed  a  vast  treasure,  which  they  kept  concealed  in  a  cave 
in  one  of  the  neighboring  mountains.  They  hired  the  donkeys 
in  order  to  transport  this  treasure  to  a  barque  in  which  they 
had  taken  passage  to  Bassora,  where  they  intended  to  estab- 
lish themselves  as  rich  foreign  merchants.  But  Allah,  who 
governs  all  things,  allows  the  plans  of  the  wicked  to  prosper 
'or  a  time,  only  that  he  may  throw  them  into  more  utter  ruin 
At  the  last  The  robbers  went  to  their  secret  cave  with  the 


?48  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

donkeys  and  loaded  them  with  all  their  spoils — great  sacks  of 
gold,  of  rubies,  diamonds  and  emeralds,  which  the  beasts  were 
scarcely  strong  enough  to  carry.  On  their  way  to  the  river 
helow  Baghdad,  where  the  boat  was  waiting  for  them,  two  of 
them  stopped  to  drink  at  a  well,  while  the  other  went  on  with 
the  asses.  Said  one  of  the  twain  to  the  other  :  "  Let  us  kill 
our  comrade,  that  we  may  have  the  greater  treasure."  He  at 
once  agreed,  and  they  had  no  sooner  overtaken  the  third  rob- 
ber, than  the  first,  with  one  stroke  of  his  sabre,  made  his  head 
fly  from  his  body.  The  two  then  proceeded  together  for  a 
short  distance,  when  the  murderer  said :  '  I  must  have  more 
than  half  of  the  treasure,  because  I  killed  our  comrade.'  '  If 
you  begin  by  claiming  more  than  half,  you  will  in  the  end 
claim  the  whole,'  said  the  other  robber,  who  refused  to  agree. 
They  presently  set  upon  each  other  with  their  swords,  and 
after  fighting  for  some  time,  both  of  them  received  so  many 
wounds  that  they  fell  dead  in  the  road. 

"  The  asses,  finding  that  no  one  was  driving  them  any 
longer,  took,  from  habit,  the  road  to  the  wood-cutter's  house, 
where  they  arrived  safely,  with  the  treasure  upon  their  backs 
Great  was  the  amazement  of  their  master,  who,  at  Zubeydeh'a 
command,  carried  the  heavy  sacks  into  the  house.  But  when 
he  had  opened  one  of  them,  and  the  splendor  of  the  jewels  fill- 
ed the  whole  room,  Zubeydeh  exclaimed :  '  God  is  great ! 
Now,  indeed,  I  see  that  my  conduct  is  acceptable  to  Him,  and 
that  His  hand  hurries  my  design  more  swiftly  to  its  comple- 
tion.' But,  as  she  knew  not  what  had  happened  to  the  rob 
bers,  and  supposed  that  the  owner  of  the  treasure  woidd  have 
his  loss  proclaimed  in  the  bazaars,  she  determined  to  keep  the 
backs  closed  for  the  space  of  a  moon,  after  which,  according  to 


THK    SULTANA     AND    THE    "VOOD-CUTTER.  249 

the  law,  they  would  become  her  property,  if  they  had  not  been 
claimed  in  the  mean  time.  Of  course,  Do  proclamation  of  th« 
IOKJ  was  made,  and  at  the  end  of  the  moon,  she  considered  that 
she  had  a  just  right  to  the  treasure,  which,  upon  computation 
proved  to  be  even  greater  than  that  of  the  Caliph  Haroun  Al- 
Raschid. 

"  She  commanded  the  wood-cutter  to  send  her  at  once  the 
most  renowned  architect  of  Baghdad,  whom  she  directed  to 
build,  exactly  opposite  to  the  Caliph's  Palace,  another  palace 
which  should  surpass  in  splendor  any  thing  that  had  ever  been 
beheld.  For  the  purchase  of  the  materials  and  the  hire  of  the 
workmen,  she  gave  him  a  hundred  thousand  pieces  of  gold. 
'  If  men  ask,'  said  she,  '  for  whom  you  are  building  the  palace, 
tell  them  it  is  for  the  son  of  a  foreign  king.'  The  architect 
employed  all  the  workmen  in  Baghdad,  and  followed  her  in- 
structions so  well,  that  in  two  months  the  palace  was  finished. 
The  like  of  it  had  never  been  seen,  and  the  Caliph's  palace 
faded  before  its  magnificence  as  the  face  of  the  moon  fades 
when  the  sun  has  risen  above  the  horizon.  The  walls  were  of 
marble,  white  as  snow ;  the  gates  of  ivory,  inlaid  with  pearl ; 
the  domes  were  gilded,  so  that  when  the  sun  shone,  the  eye 
could  not  look  upon  them  ;  and  from  a  great  fountain  of  silver, 
in  the  court-yard,  a  jet  of  rose-colored  water,  which  diffused 
an  agreeable  odor,  leaped  into  air.  Of  this  palace  it  might 
be  said,  in  the  words  of  the  poet :  '  Truly  it  resembles  Para- 
dise ;  or  is  it  the  lost  House  of  Irem,  built  from  the  treasures 
of  King  Sheddad  ?  May  kindness  dwell  upon  the  lips  of  the 
lord  of  this  palace,  and  charity  find  refuge  in  his  heart,  that 
be  be  adjudged  worthy  to  enjoy  such  splendor !' 

"  During  the  building  of  the  palace,  Zubeydeh  employed 
11* 


250  JOURNEF   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

the  best  masters  in  teaching  the  wood-cutter  all  the  accomplish 
tnents  which  his  present  condition  required  that  he  should  pos- 
sess. In  a  short  time  he  was  a  very  pattern  of  elegance  in  his 
manner :  his  words  were  choice  and  spoken  with  dignity  and 
propriety,  and  his  demeanor  was  that  of  one  born  to  command 
rather  than  to  obey.  When  she  had  succeeded  to  the  full  ex- 
tent of  her  wishes,  she  commenced  teaching  him  to  play  chess, 
and  spent  several  hours  a  day  in  this  manner,  until  he  finally 
played  with  a  skill  equal  to  her  own.  By  this  time,  the  palace 
was  completed,  and  after  having  purchased  horses  and  slaves, 
and  every  thing  necessary  to  the  maintenance  of  a  princely 
household,  Zubeydeh  and  the  wood-cutter  took  possession  of  it 
during  the  night,  in  order  that  they  might  not  be  observed  by 
the  Caliph.  Zubeydeh  bade  the  wood-cutter  remember  the 
promise  he  had  made  her.  She  still  retained  her  own  apart- 
ments, with  a  number  of  female  slaves  to  attend  her,  and  she 
now  presented  to  him,  as  a  harem  becoming  a  prince,  twenty 
Circassian  girls,  each  one  fairer  than  the  morning-star. 

"The  next  morning  she  called  the  wood-cutter,  and  ad- 
dressed him  thus  :  '  You  see,  my  lord  I  what  I  have  done  for 
you.  You  remember  in  what  misery  I  found  you,  and  how, 
by  your  following  my  advice,  every  thing  was  changed.  1  in- 
tend to  exalt  you  still  higher,  and  in  order  that  my  plans  may 
not  be  frustrated,  I  now  ask  you  to  promise  that  you  will  obey 
me  in  all  things,  for  a  month  from  this  time.'  Zubeydeh  made 
this  demand,  for  she  knew  how  quickly  a  change  of  fortune 
may  change  a  man's  character,  and  how  he  will  soon  come  to 
look  upon  that  as  a  right  which  Allah  granted  him  as  a  boon. 
But  the  wood-cutter  threw  himself  at  her  feet,  and  said  :  *  0 
Queen  1  it  is  for  you  to  command,  and  it  is  for  me  to  obey 


THJ    SI  I.TANA     AVD    THK    WOOD-CUTTER.  251 

v  j a  have  taught  me  understanding  and  wisdom  \  you  have 
fiven  me  the  wealth  of  kings.  May  Allah  forget  me,  if  I  for 
get  to  give  you,  in  return,  gratitude  and  obedience.'  '  Go 
then,'  continued  Zubeydeh,  '  mount  this  horse,  and  attended 
by  twenty  slaves  on  horseback,  visit  the  coffee-house  in  the 
great  bazaar.  Take  with  thee  a  purse  of  three  thousand  pieces 
of  gold,  and  as  thou  goest  on  thy  way,  scatter  a  handful  occa- 
sionally among  the  beggars.  Take  thy  seat  in  the  coffee-house, 
where  thou  wilt  see  the  Vizier's  son,  who  is  a  skilful  player 
of  chess.  He  will  challenge  the  multitude  to  play  with  him, 
and  when  no  one  accepts,  do  thou  engage  him  for  a  thousand 
pieces  of  gold.  Thou  wilt  win ;  but  pay  him  the  thousand 
pieces  as  if  thou  hadst  lost,  give  two  hundred  pieces  to  the 
master  of  the  coffee-house,  divide  two  hundred  pieces. among 
the  attendants,  and  scatter  the  remainder  among  the  beggars.' 
"  The  wood-cutter  performed  all  that  Zubeydeh  commanded. 
He  accepted  the  challenge  of  the  Vizier's  son,  won  the  game, 
yet  paid  him  a  thousand  pieces  of  gold  as  if  he  had  lost,  and 
then  rode  back  to  the  palace,  followed  by  the  acclamations  of 
the  multitude,  who  were  loud  in  their  praises  of  his  beauty, 
the  elegance  of  his  speech,  his  unbounded  munificence,  and  the 
splendor  of  his  attendance.  Every  day  he  visited  the  coffee- 
house, gave  two  hundred  pieces  of  gold  to  the  master,  two 
hundred  to  the  servants,  and  distributed  six  hundred  among 
the  beggars.  But  the  Vizier's  son,  overcome  with  chagrin  at 
his  defeat,  remained  at  home,  where,  in  a  few  days,  he  sick- 
ened and  died.  These  things  coming  to  the  Vizier's  ear,  he 
felt  a  great  desire  to  see  the  foreign  prince,  whose  wealth  and 
generosity  were  the  talk  of  all  Baghdad ;  and  as  he  believed 
himself  to  be  the  greatest  chess-player  in  the  world,  he  deter- 


252  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

mined  to  challenge  him  to  a  game.  He  thereupon  visited  tht 
coffee-house,  where  he  had  not  remained  long  when  the  wood- 
cutter made  his  appearance,  in  even  greater  splendor  than  be- 
fore. This  was  in  accordance  with  the  instructions  of  Zub«y- 
deh,  who  was  informed  of  all  that  had  taken  place.  He  at 
once  accepted  the  Vizier's  challenge  to  play,  for  a  stake  of  two 
thousand  pieces  of  gold.  After  a  hard-fought  battle,  the 
Vizier  was  fairly  beaten,  but  the  wood-cutter  paid  him  the 
two  thousand  pieces  of  gold,  as  if  he  had  lost  the  game,  gave 
away  another  thousand  as  usual,  and  retired  to  his  palace. 

"  The  Vizier  took  his  defeat  so  much  to  heart,  that  his  cha- 
grin, combined  with  grief  for  the  loss  of  his  son,  carried  him 
off  in  a  few  days.  This  circumstance  brought  the  whole  his- 
tory to.  the  ears  of  Haroun  Al-Raschid  himself,  who  was  im- 
mediately seized  with  a  strong  desire  tc  play  chess  with  the 
foreign  prince,  not  doubting  but  that,  as  he  had  always  beaten 
his  Vizier,  he  would  be  more  than  a  match  for  the  new  antago- 
nist. Accordingly  he  sent  an  officer  to  the  palace  of  the  wood- 
cutter, with  a  message  that  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful  de- 
sired to  offer  his  hospitality  to  the  son  of  the  foreign  king. 
By  Zubeydeh's  advice,  the  invitation  was  accepted,  and  the 
officer  speedily  returned  to  Haroun  Al-Raschid,  to  whom  he 
gave  such  a  description  of  the  magnificence  of  the  new  palace, 
that  the  Caliph's  mouth  began  to  water,  and  he  exclaimed  : 
'  By  Allah  !  I  must  look  to  this.  No  man,  who  has  not  the 
ring  of  Solomon  on  his  finger,  shall  surpass  me  in  my  own  cap- 
ital ! "  In  a  short  time  the  wood-cutter  arrived,  attired  in 
Buch  splendor  that  the  day  seemed  brighter  for  his  appearance, 
and  attended  by  forty  black  slaves,  in  dresses  of  crimson  silk, 
with  turbans  of  white  and  gold,  and  golden  swords  by  theii 


THE  sr  ,t'.AK    \\i-    :••!:•   wo  on -PUTTER.  253 

sides.  They  formed  a  double  row  from  the  court-yard  to  thf 
throne -hall  where  the  Caliph  sat,  and  up  the  avenue  thus  form- 
ed the  wood-cutter  advanced,  preceded  by  two  slaves  in  dressei 
of  cloth-of  silver,  who  placed  at  the  Caliph's  feet  two  crysta-1 
goblets  filled  with  rubies  and  emeralds  of  immense  size.  The 
Caliph,  delighted  with  this  superb  present,  rose,  embraced  the 
supposed  prince,  and  seated  him  by  his  side.  From  the  great 
wealth  displayed  by  the  wood-cutter,  and  the  perfect  grace 
and  propriety  of  his  manners,  the  Caliph  suspected  that  he 
was  no  less  a  personage  than  the  son  of  the  King  of  Cathay. 

"  After  a  handsome  repast  had  been  served,  the  Caliph 
proposed  a  game  of  chess,  stating  that  he  had  heard  much  of 
the  prince's  skill  in  playing.  'After  I  shall  have  played  with 
you,  0  Commander  of  the  Faithful  !'  said  the  wood-cutter, 
'  you  will  hear  no  more  of  my  skill.'  The  Caliph  was  charm- 
<'d  with  the  modesty  of  this  speech,  and  the  compliment  to 
himself,  and  they  immediately  began  to  play.  The  wood-cut- 
ter, although  he  might  easily  have  beaten  the  Caliph,  suffered 
the  latter  to  win  the  first  game,  which  put  him  into  the  best 
humor  possible.  But  when  the  second  game  had  been  played, 
and  the  wood-cutter  was  the  victor,  he  perceived  that  the  Ca- 
liph's face  became  dark,  and  his  good-humor  was  gone.  '  You 
die  too  generous  to  your  servant,  0  Caliph  ! '  said  he ;  'had 
you  not  given  me  this  nuccess  as  an  encouragement,  I  should 
have  lost  a  second  time.'  At  these  words  Haroun  smiled,  and 
they  played  a  third  game,  which  the  wood-cutter  purposely  aJ 
towed  him  to  win.  Such  was  the  counsel  given  to  him  by  Zu- 
beydeh,  who  said  :  '  If  thou  permittest  him  to  win  the  first 
game,  he  will  be  so  well  pleased,  that  thou  mayest  venture  to 
defeat  him  on  the  second  game.  Then,  when  he  has  won  the 


254  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

third  game,  thy  having  been  once  vict  orious  will  magnify  hil 
opinion  of  his  own  skill ;  for  where  we  never  suffer  defeat,  we 
at  last  regard  our  conquests  with  indifference  ' 

"  The  result  was  precisely  as  Zubeydeh  had  predicted 
The  Caliph  was  charmed  with  the  foreign  prince,  and  in  a  few 
days  made  him  his  Vizier.  The  wood-cutter  filled  his  exalted 
station  with  dignity  and  judgment,  and  became  at  once  a  great 
favorite  with  the  people  of  Baghdad.  The  month  of  obedience 
which  he  promised  to  Zubeydeh  was  now  drawing  to  a  close, 
when  she  said  to  him  :  '  Cease  to  visit  the  Caliph,  and  do  not 
leave  thy  palace  for  two  or  three  days.  When  the  Caliph 
sends  for  thee,  return  for  answer  that  thou  art  ill.'  She  fore- 
saw that  the  Caliph  would  then  come  to  see  his  Vizier,  and 
gave  the  wood-cutter  complete  instructions,  concerning  what  he 
should  say  and  do. 

"  Haroun  Al-Raschid  no  sooner  heard  of  the  illness  of  his 
Vizier,  than  he  went  personally  to  his  palace,  to  see  him.  He 
was  amazed  at  the  size  and  splendor  of  the  edifice.  '  Truly,' 
said  he,  striking  his  hands  together.  '  this  man  hath  found 
the  ring  of  Solomon,  which  compels  the  assistance  of  the  ge 
nii.  In  all  my  life  I  have  never  seen  such  a  palace  as  this.' 
He  found  the  Vizier  reclining  on  a  couch  of  cloth-of-gold,  in  a 
chamber,  the  walls  whereof  were  of  mother-of-pearl,  and  the 
floor  of  ivory.  There  was  a  fountain  of  perfumed  water  in  the 
centre,  and  beside  it  stood  a  jasmine-tree,  growing  in  a  vase 
of  crystal.  '  How  is  this  ? '  said  the  Caliph,  seating  himself 
on  one  end  of  the  couch  ;  '  a  man  whom  the  genii  serve,  should 
have  the  secrets  of  health  in  his  hands.'  '  It  is  no  fever,'  saivl 
the  Vizier  ;  '  but  the  other  day  as  I  was  washing  myself  in  the 
fountain,  before  the  evening  prayor,  [  stooped  too  near  the  ja» 


TH*    SULTANA    AND    THK    WOOD-CtTTTKR.  25ft 

mine  tree,  and  one  of  its  thorns  scratched  my  left  arm. 
'What!'  cried  the  Caliph,  in  amazement;  '  tne  scratch  of  I 
blunt  jasmine-thorn  has  made  you  ill ! '  '  You  wonder  at  it^ 
no  doubt,  0  Commander  of  the  Faithful ! '  said  the  Vizier 

because,  only  a  few  months  ago,  you  saw  that  I  was  insensi 
ble  to  the  fangs  of  a  serpent,  which  had  fastened  upon  mj 
heel.'  'There  is  no  God  but  God!'  exclaimed  Haroun  Al- 
Rasohid,  as  by  these  words  he  recognized  the  poor  wood-cut- 
ter, who  had  passed  under  the  window  of  his  palace — '  hast 
thou  indeed  found  the  ring  of  Solomon  ? — and  where  is  the  wo- 
man whom  Mesrour,  at  my  command,  brought  to  thee  ?' 

"  '  She  is  here  ! '  said  Zubeydeh,  entering  the  door.  She 
turned  towards  the  Caliph,  and  slightly  lifting  her  veil,  show- 
ed him  her  face,  more  beautiful  than  ever.  Haroun,  with  a 
cry  of  joy,  was  on  the  point  of  clasping  her  in  his  arms,  when 
he  stopped  suddenly,  and  said  :  '  But  thou  art  now  the  wife  of 
that  man.'  '  Not  so,  great  Caliph  ! '  exclaimed  the  Vizier 
who  rose  to  his  feet,  now  that  there  was  no  longer  any  need 
to  affect  illness ;  '  from  the  day  that  she  entered  my  house,  I 
have  never  seen  her  face.  By  the  beard  of  the  Prophet,  she 
is  not  less  pure  than  she  is  wise.  It  is  she  who  has  made  me 
all  that  I  am.  Obedience  to  her  was  the  seed  from  which  the 
tree  of  my  fortune  has  grown.'  Zubeydeh  then  knelt  at  the 
Caliph's  feet,  and  said  :  '  0  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  re- 
store me  to  the  light  of  your  favor.  I  swear  to  you  that  I  am 
not  less  your  wife  than  when  the  cloud  of  your  anger  over 
shadowed  me.  This  honorable  man  has  never  ceased  to  re- 

pect  me.  My  thoughtless  words  led  you  to  send  me  forth  to 
take  the  place  of  the  serpent,  but  I  have  now  shown  you  that 
H  wife  may  also  be  to  her  husband  as  the  staff,  whereon  he 


256  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

leans  for  support ;  as  the  camel,  which  bringeth  him  riches ; 
as  the  tent,  which  shelters  and  protects  him;  as  the  bath 
which  maketh  him  comely,  and  as  the  lamp,  whereby  his  steps 
are  enlightened.' 

"  Haroun  Al-Raschid  had  long  since  bitterly  repented  of 
his  rashness  and  cruelty.  He  now  saw  in  what  had  happened, 
the  hand  of  Allah,  who  had  turned  that  which  he  had  intended 
as  a  punishment,  into  a  triumph.  He  restored  Zubeydeh  at 
once  to  his  favor,  asd  to  the  wood-cutter,  whom  he  still  retain- 
ed as  Vizier,  he  gave  his  eldest  daughter  in  marriage.  All  the 
citizens  of  Baghdad  took  part  in  the  festivities,  which  lasted 
two  weeks,  and  the  Caliph,  to  commemorate  his  gratitude, 
built  a  superb  mosque,  which  is  called  the  Mosque  of  the  Res- 
toration to  this  very  day.  The  Vizier  nobly  requited  all  the 
pains  which  the  Sultana  Zubeydeh  had  taken  with  his  educa- 
tion, and  showed  so  much  wisdom  and  justice  in  his  adminis- 
tration of  the  laws,  that  the  Caliph  never  had  occasion  to  be 
dissatisfied  with  him.  Thus  they  all  lived  together  in  the  ut- 
most happiness  and  concord,  until  they  were  each,  in  turn,  vis- 
ited by  the  Terminator  of  Delights  and  the  Separator  of  Com- 
panions." 

So  ended  Acbmet's  story ;  but  without  the  moonlight,  the 
tall  Ethiopian  palms  and  the  soothing  pipe,  as  accessories,  1 
fear  that  this  reproduction  of  it  retains  little  of  the  charm 
which  I  found  in  the  original  It  was  followed  by  other  and 
vilder  tales,  stamped  in  every  part  with  the  unmistakable  sig- 
net of  the  Orient.  They  were  all  characterized  by  the  belief 
in  an  inevitable  Destiny,  which  seems  to  be  the  informing  sou] 
of  all  Oriental  literature.  This  belief  affords  every  liberty  to 
the  poet  and  romancer,  and  the  Arabic  authors  have  not  sera* 


OKtKNTAL    LITERATURE.  257 

pied  to  make  liberal  use  of  it.  There  is  no  hazard  in  sur 
rounding  your  hero  with  all  sorts  of  real  and  imaginary  dan- 
gers, or  in  heaping  up  obstacles  in  the  path  of  his  designs, 
when  you  know  that  his  destiny  obliges  him  to  overcome  them. 
He  becomes,  for  the  time,  the  impersonation  of  Fate,  and  cir- 
cumstances yield  before  him.  You  see,  plainly,  that  he  wap 
chosen,  in  the  beginning,  to  do  the  very  thing  which  he  accom- 
plishes, in  the  end.  If  a  miracle  is  needed  for  his  success,  it 
is  not  withheld.  Difficulties  crowd  upon  him  to  the  last,  only 
that-  the  final  triumph  may  be  more  complete  and  striking. 
Yet  with  all  these  violations  of  probability,  the  Oriental  tales 
exhibit  a  great  fertility  of  invention  and  sparkle  with  touches 
of  genuine  human  nature  The  deep  and  absorbing  interest 
with  which  the  unlettered  Arabs  listen  to  their  recital — the 
hold  which  they  have  upon  the  popular  heart  of  the  East — at- 
tests their  value,  as  illustrations  of  Eastern  life. 

From  Poetry  we  frequently  passed  to  Religion,  and  Ach- 
inet  was  astonished  to  find  me  familiar  not  only  with  Mo- 
hammed, but  with  Ali  and  Abdullah  and  Abu-talib,  and  with 
many  incidents  of  the  Prophet's  life,  which  were  new  to  him. 
The  Persian  chronicles  were  fresh  in  my  memory,  and  all  the 
wonders  related  of  Mohammed  by  that  solemn  old  biographer, 
Mohammed  Bekr,  came  up  again  as  vividly  as  when  I  first 
read  them.  We  compared  notes,  he  repeated  passages  of  the 
Koran,  and  so  the  Giaour  and  the  True  Believer  discussed  the 
nature  of  their  faith,  but  always  ended  by  passing  beyond  Pro- 
phet and  Apostle,  to  the  one  great  and  good  God,  who  ia 
equally  merciful  to  all  men,  I  couid  sincerely  adopt  the  first 
article  of  his  faith:  "La  illaJi  iV  Allah!"  "There  is  no 
God  but  God,"  while  he  was  equally  ready  to  accept  the  first 
commandment  of  mine. 


258  JOTTRNKT    TO    C'KNTKAL    ATUIOA. 


CHAPTER     XX. 

FROM      8HENDY      TO      K  H  A  R  T  O  0  M. 

Arrival  at  Shendy— Appearance  of  the  Town  -Shendy  in  Former  Days — We  Touoh  at 
El  Metemma— The  Nile  beyond  Shendy— Flesh  Diet  vs.  Vegetables— We  Escape 
Shipwreck— A  Walk  on  Shore— The  Rapids  of  Derreira— Djebel  Gerri— The 
Twelfth  Cataract — Night  in  the  Mountain  Gorge — Crocodiles — A  Drink  of  Mareesa 
—My  Birth-Day — Fair  Wind — Approach  to  Khartoum — The  Junction  of  the  Two 
Niles— Appearance  of  the  City — We  Drop  Anchci. 

THE  morning  after  visiting  the  ruins  of  Meroe  I  reached  tht 
old  Ethiopian  town  of  Shendy.  It  lies  about  half  a  mile  from 
the  river,  but  the  massive  fort  and  palace  of  the  Governor  are 
built  on  the  water's  edge.  Several  spreading  sycamore  trees 
gave  a  grace  to  the  shore,  which  would  otherwise  have  been 
dull  and  tame.  Naked  Ethiopians  were  fishing  or  washing 
their  clothes  in  the  water,  and  some  of  them,  as  they  held  theii 
long,  scarlet-edged  mantles  above  their  heads,  to  dry  in  the 
wind  and  sun,  showed  fine,  muscular  figures.  The  women  had 
hideou*  faces,  but  symmetrical  and  well  developed  forms.  A 
group  of  Egyptian  soldiers  watched  us  from  the  bank  before 
the  palace,  and  several  personages  on  horseback,  one  of  whom 
appeared  to  be  the  Governor  himself,  were  hailing  the  ferry 


8HENDY.  259 

t,  which  was  just  about  putting  off  with  a  heavy  load  of  na- 
tives. 

We  ran  tho  boat  to  the  shore,  at  a  landing-place  just  above 
the  palace.  The  banks  of  the  river  were  covered  with  fields 
of  cucumbers  and  beans,  the  latter  brilliant  with  white  and 
purple  blossoms  and  filled  with  the  murmuring  sound  of  bees. 
Achmet,  the  rais  and  I  walked  up  to  the  capital — the  famous 
Shendy,  once  the  great  mart  of  trade  for  the  regions  between 
the  Red  Sea  and  Dar-Ffir.  On  the  way  we  met  numbers  of 
women  with  water-jars.  They  wore  no  veils,  but  certainly 
needed  them,  for  their  faces  were  of  a  broad,  semi-negro  char- 
acter, and  repulsively  plain.  The  town  is  built  in  a  straggling 
manner,  along  a  low,  sandy  ridge,  and  is  upwards  of  a  mile  in 
length,  though  it  probably  does  not  contain  more  than  ten 
thousand  inhabitants.  The  houses  are  mud,  of  course,  but 
rough  and  filthy,  and  many  of  them  are  the  same  circular  to- 
kuls  of  mats  and  palm-sticks  as  I  had  already  noticed  in  the 
smaller  villages.  The  only  decent  dwelling  which  I  saw  had 
been  just  erected  by  a  Congolese  merchant.  There  was  a 
mosque,  with  a  low  mud  minaret,  but  neither  in  this  nor  in 
any  other  respect  did  the  place  compare  with  El  Mekheyref. 
The  bazaar  resembled  a  stable,  having  a  passage  through  the 
centre,  shaded  with  mats,  and  stalls  on  either  side,  some  of 
which  contained  donkeys  and  others  merchants.  The  goods 
displayed  were  principally  blue  and  white  cotton  stuffs  of  joarse 
quality,  beads,  trinkets  and  the  like.  It  was  market-day,  but 
the  people  had  not  yet  assembled.  A  few  screens  of  matting, 
erected  on  sticks,  were  the  only  preparations  which  had  been 
made.  The  whole  appearance  of  the  place  was  that  of  poverty 
and  desertion  Beyond  the  clusters  of  huts,  and  a  mud  wall 


200  JOL'RNKY    TO    CKNTKAL    AFRICA. 

which  ran  along  the  eastern  side  of  the  town,  the  Desert  ex 
tended  to  the  horizon — a  hot,  white  plain,  dotted  with  clumps 
of  thorns.  On  our  return  to  the  boat,  the  rais  pointed  out  the 
spot  where,  in  1822,  Ismail  Pasha  and  his  soldiers  were  burn- 
ed to  death  by  Mek  Nernr  (King  Leopard),  the  last  monarch 
of  Shendy.  The  bloody  revenge  taken  by  Mohammed  Bey 
Defterdar  (son-in-law  of  Mohammed  Ali),  for  that  act,  sealed 
the  fate  of  the  kingdom.  The  seat  of  the  Egyptian  govern- 
ment in  Soudan  was  fixed  at  Khartoum,  which  in  a  few  year? 
became  also  the  centre  of  trade,  and  now  flourishes  at  the  ex- 
pense of  Shendy  and  El  Metemma. 

Burckhardt,  who  visited  Shendy  during  -the  reign  of  King 
Leopard,  devotes  much  space  to  a  description  of  the  trade  of 
the  town  at  that  time.  It  was  then  in  the  height  of  its  pros 
perity,  and  the  resort  of  merchants  from  Arabia,  Abyssinia, 
Egypt,  and  even  Syria  and  Asia  Minor.  It  was  also  one  of 
the  chief  slave-marts  of  Central  Africi,  in  which  respect  it  has 
since  been  superseded  by  Obeid,  in  Kordofan.  The  only  com- 
merce which  has  been  left  to  Shendy  is  that  with  Djidda  and 
the  other  Arabian  ports,  by  way  of  Sowakin,  on  the  Red  Sea — 
a  caravan  journey  of  fourteen  days,  through  the  country  of 
Takka,  infested  by  the  wild  tribes  of  the  Hallengas  and  Haden- 
doas.  Mek  Nemr,  according  to  Burckhardt,  was  of  the 
Djaaleyn  tribe,  who  are  descendants  of  the  Beui  Koreish,  (A 
Yemen,  and  still  retain  the  pure  Arabian  features.  I  wa? 
afterwards,  during  my  stay  in  Khartoum,  enabled  to  verify 
the  declaration  of  the  same  traveller,  that  all  the  tribes  of 
Ethiopia  between  the  Nile  and  the  Red  Sea  are  of  unmixed 
Arab  stock. 

The  palace  of  the  (rovernor,  which  was  a  building  of  con 


EL    MKTKMM  \.  201 

siderable  extent,  had  heavy  circular  bastions,  which  were  de- 
fended by  cannon.  Its  position,  on  the  bank  of  the  Nile,  was 
much  more  agreeable  than  that  of  the  city,  and  the  garrison 
had  settled  around  it,  forming  a  small  village  on  its  eastern 
Bide.  The  white  walls  and  latticed  windows  of  the  palace 
reminded  me  of  Cairo,  and  I  anticipated  a  pleasant  residence 
within  its  walls,  on  my  return  to  Shendy.  As  I  wished  to 
reach  Khartoum  as  soon  as  possible  I  did  not  call  upon  the 
Governor,  but  sent  him  the  letter  of  recommendation  from 
Yagheshir  Bey.  From  Shendy,  one  sees  the  group  of  palms 
which  serves  as  a  landmark  to  El  Metemma,  the  capital  of  a 
former  Ethiopian.  Kingdom,  further  up  the  Nile,  on  its  oppo- 
site bank.  This  is  the  starting  point  for  caravans  to  Merawe 
and  Dongola  through  the  Beyooda  Desert.  We  passed  its 
port  about  noon,  and  stopped  a  few  minutes  to  let  the  rais  pay 
his  compliments  to  the  owner  of  our  vessel,  who  was  on  shore. 
He  was  a  little  old  man,  with  a  long  staff,  and  dressed  like  the 
meanest  Arab,  although  he  was  shekh  of  half  a  dozen  villages, 
and  had  a  servant  leading  a  fine  Congolese  horse  behind  him. 
The  boat  of  Khaliin  Bey,  agent  of  the  Governor  of  Berber  and 
Shendy,  was  at  the  landing  place,  and  we  saw  the  Bey,  a  tall, 
handsome  Turk  in  a  rich  blue  and  crimson  dress,  who  sent  a 
servant  to  ask  my  name  and  character. 

The  scenery  of  the  Nile,  southward  from  Shendy,  is  again 
changed.  The  tropical  rains  which  fall  occasionally  at  Abou- 
Hammed  and  scantily  at  Berber,  are  here  periodical,  and  there 
fs  no  longer  the  same  striking  contrast  between  desert  and 
garden  land.  The  plains  extending  inward  from  the  river  are 
covered  with  a  growth  of  bushes  and  coarse  grass,  which  also 
appears  in  patches  on  the  sides  of  the  mountains.  The  iuhabi 


202  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

tants  cultivate  but  a  narrow  strip  of  beans  and  dourra  along 
the  river,  but  own  immense  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats,  which 
afford  their  principal  sustenance.  I  noticed  many  fields  of  the 
grain  called  dookhn,  of  which  they  plant  a  larger  quantity  than 
of  dourra.  Mutton,  however,  is  the  Ethiopian's  greatest  deli- 
cacy. Notwithstanding  this  is  one  of  the  warmest  climates  iu 
the  world,  the  people  eat  meat  whenever  they  can  get  it,  and 
greatly  prefer  it  to  vegetable  food.  The  sailors  and  camel- 
drivers,  whose  principal  food  is  dourra,  are,  notwithstanding  a 
certain  quality  of  endurance,  as  weak  as  children,  when  com- 
pared with  an  able-bodied  European,  and  they  universally 
attribute  this  weakness  to  their  diet.  This  is  a  fact  for  the 
lank  vegetarians  to  explain.  My  experience  coincided  with 
that  of  the  Ethiopians,  and  I  ascribed  no  small  share  of  my 
personal  health  and  strength,  which  the  violent  alternations  of 
heat  and  cold  during  the  journey  had  not  shaken  in  the  least, 
to  the  fact  of  my  having  fared  sumptuously  every  day. 

After  leaving  Shendy,  the  Nile  makes  a  bend  to  the  west,  and 
we  went  along  slowly  all  the  afternoon,  with  «  side-wind.  The 
shores  were  not  so  highly  cultivated  as  those  we  had  passed, 
and  low  hills  of  yellow  sand  began  to  show  themselves  on 
either  hand.  The  villages  were  groups  of  mud  tokuls,  with 
high,  conical  roofs,  and  the  negro  type  of  face  appeared  much 
more  frequently  among  the  inhabitants — the  result  of  amalga 
mation  with  slaves.  We  saw  numbers  of  young  crocodiles 
which  my  sailors  delighted  to  frighten  by  shouting  and  throw- 
ing sticks  at  them,  as  they  sunned  themselves  on  the  sand. 
Wild  geese  and  ducks  were  abundant,  and  the  quiet  little  coves 
along  the  shore  were  filled  with  their  young  brood.  During 
the  day  a  large  hawk  or  vulture  dashed  down  to  within  a  yard 


EBOAl'E    FKOM    SHIPIVRECK.  2fi3 

of  the  deck  in  the  attempt  to  snatch  a  piece  of  my  black  ram, 
which  Beshir  had  just  killed. 

The  next  moriiing  we  had  a  narrow  escape  from  shipwreck 
The  wind  blew  strong  from  the  north,  as  we  reached  a  twist  in 
the  river,  where  our  course  for  several  miles  lay  to  the  north- 
west, obliging  the  men  to  take  in  sail  and  tow  the  vessel.  They 
had  reached  the  turning-point  and  the  sail  was  blowing  loop* 
while  two  sailors  lay  out  on  the  long,  limber  yard,  trying  tc 
reef,  when  a  violent  gust  pulled  the  rope  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  man  on  shore,  and  we  were  carried  into  the  stream.  The 
steersman  put  the  helm  hard  up,  and  made  for  the  point  of  an 
island  which  lay  opposite,  but  the  current  was  so  strong  that  we 
could  not  reach  it.  It  blew  a  g;ile,  and  the  Nile  was  rough  with 
"tfave.s.  Between  the  island  and  the  southern  shore  lay  a  clus- 
ter of  sharp,  black  rocks,  and  for  a  few  minutes  we  appeared  to 
be  driving  directly  upon  them.  The  rais  and  sailors,  with 
mauy  cries  of  "  0  Prophet !  0  Apostle  !  "  gave  themselves  up 
to  their  fate ;  but  the  strength  of  the  current  saved  us.  Our 
bow  just  grazed  the  edge  of  the  last  rock,  and  we  were  blown 
across  to  the  opposite  shore,  where  we  struck  hard  upon  the 
sand  and  were  obliged  to  remain  two  hours,  until  the  wind 
abated.  I  was  vexed  and  impatient  at  first,  but  remembering 
the  effect  of  a  pipe  upon  a  similar  occasion,  I  took  one,  and 
soon  became  calm  enough  to  exclaim  :  "  it  is  the  will  of  Allah ! " 

While  the  boat  was  making  such  slow  headway,  I  wenl 
ashore  and  walked  an  hour  or  two  among  the  fields  of  beans 
and  dourra.  The  plains  for  several  miles  inland  were  covered 
with  dry  grass  and  thorn-  trees,  and  only  needed  irrigation  tc 
bloom  as  a  garden.  The  sun  was  warm,  the  bean-fields  alive 
with  bees,  and  the  wind  took  a  rich  summer  fragrance  from  th« 


264  JOURNET    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

white  and  purple  blossoms.  Near  one  of  the  huts  I  accosted 
a  woman  who  was  weeding  among  the  dourra.  She  told  me 
that  her  husband  had  deserted  her  and  taken  a-nother  wife, 
leaving  her  the  charge  of  their  two  children.  He  had  alst 
taken  her  three  cows  and  given  them  to  his  new  wife,  so  that 
her  only  means  of  support  was  to  gather  the  dry  grass  and  sell 
it  in  the  villages.  I  gave  her  a  few  piastres,  which  she  receiv 
ed  gratefully.  In  the  afternoon  we  passed  the  main  bend  of 
the  river,  and  were  able  to  make  use  of  the  wind,  which  by  this 
time  was  light.  The  sailor  who  had  been  left  ashore  during 
the  gale  overtook  us,  by  walking  a  distance  of  eight  or  ten 
miles  and  swimming  one  of  the  smaller  arms  of  the  river.  The 
western  bank  of  the  river  now  became  broken  and  billy,  occa- 
sionally overhung  by  bluffs  of  gravelly  soil,  of  a  dark  red  color. 
On  the  top  of  one  of  the  hills  there  was  a  wall,  which  the  raie 
pointed  out  to  ine  as  kadeem  (ancient),  but  it  appeared  too 
dilapidated  to  repay  the  trouble  of  a  visit. 

On  the  following  day,  the  scenery  became  remarkably  wild 
and  picturesque.  After  passing  the  village  of  Derreira,  on  the 
right  bank,  the  Nile  was  studded  with  islands  of  various  sizes 
rising  like  hillocks  from  the  water,  and  all  covered  with  the 
most  luxuriant  vegetation.  The  mimosa,  the  acacia,  the  palm, 
the  sycamore  and  the  nebbu/c  flourished  together  in  rank 
growth,  with  a  profusion  of  smaller  shrubs,  and  all  were  mat- 
ted together  with  wild  green  creepers,  which  dropped  their 
long  streamers  of  pink  and  purple  blossoms  into  the  water. 
Reefs  of  black  rock,  over  which  the  waves  foamed  impetuous 
ly,  made  the  navigation  intricate  and  dangerous.  The  bank' 
of  the  river  were  high  and  steep,  and  covered  with  bushes  and 
rank  grass,  above  which  the  rustling  blades  of  the  dourra  glit- 


THE   TWELFTH    CATABACT.  265 

tered  in  the  sun.  The  country  was  thickly  populated,  and  the 
inhabitants  were  mostly  of  the  Shyghcean  tribe — from  Dar 
Shygheea,  the  region  between  Dongola  and  Berber.  The  sakiaa 
were  tended  by  Dinka  slaves,  as  black  as  ebony,  and  with 
coarse,  bruti.-h  fac<  s.  At  one  point  on  the  eastern  shore,  oppo- 
site the  island  of  Beiuli,  the  natives  had  collected  all  their  live 
stock,  but  for  what  purpose  I  could  not  learn.  The  shore  was 
covered  with  hundreds  of  camels,  donkeys,  sheep,  cows  and 
goats,  carefully  kept  in  separate  herds. 

After  threading  ten  miles  of  those  island  bowers,  we  ap- 
proached Djebel  Gerri,  which  we  had  seen  all  day,  ahead  of  us. 
The  ^Nile,  instead  of  turning  westward  around  the  flank  of  the 
mountain,  as  I  had  anticipated  from  the  features  of  the  land- 
scape, made  a  sudden  bend  to  the  south,  between  a  thick  clus- 
ter of  islands,  and  entered  the  hills.  At  this  point  there  was 
a  rapid,  extending  half-way  across  the  river.  The  natives  call 
it  a  shellal  (eataract),  although  it  deserves  the  name  no  more 
than  the  cataracts  of  Assouan  and  Wadi-lialfa.  Adopting  the 
term,  however,  which  has  been  sanctioned  by  long  usage,  thia 
is  the  Twelfth  Cataract  of  the  Nile,  and  the  last  one  which  the 
traveller  meets  before  reaching  the  mountains  of  Abyssinia. 
The  stream  is  very  narrow,  compressed  between  high  hills  of 
naked  red  sandstone  rock.  At  sunset  we  were  completely  shut 
in  the  savage  solitude,  and  there  we  seemed  likely  to  remain, 
for  the  wind  came  from  all  quarters  by  turns,  and  jammed  the 
vessel  against  the  rocks  more  than  once. 

The  narrow  terraces  of  soil  on  the  sides  of  the  mountains 
were  covered  with  dense  beds  of  long,  dry  grass,  and  as  we  lay 
moored  to  the  rocks,  I  climbed  up  to  one  of  these,  in  spito  of 
the  rais's  warnings  that  I  should  fall  in  with  lions  and  ser- 


866  JOURNEY   TO   CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

pents.  I  lay  down  in  the  warm  grass,  and  watched  the  shad 
ows  deepen  in  the  black  gorge,  as  the  twilight  died  away.  The 
zilfzak  or  crocodile-bird  twittered  along  the  shore,  and,  after 
it  became  quite  dark,  the  stillness  was  occasionally  broken  by 
the  snort  of  a  hippopotamus,  as  he  thrust  his  huge  head  above 
water,  or  by  the  yell  of  a  hyena  prowling  among  the  hills.  Talk 
of  the  pleasure  of  reading  a  traveller's  adventures  in  strange 
lands !  There  is  no  pleasure  equal  to  that  of  living  them  : 
neither  the  anticipation  nor  the  memory  of  such  a  scene  as  I 
witnessed  that  evening,  can  approach  the  fascination  of  the 
reality.  I  was  awakened  after  midnight  by  the  motion  of  the 
vessel,  and  looking  out  of  my  shelter  as  I  lay,  could  see  that 
we  were  slowly  gliding  through  the  foldings  of  the  stony  moun- 
tains. The  moon  rode  high  and  bright,  over  the  top  of  a  peak 
in  front,  and  the  sound  of  my  prow,  as  it  occasionally  grated 
against  the  rocks,  alone  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the  wild  pass. 
Once  the  wind  fell,  and  the  men  were  obliged  to  make  fast  to 
a  rock,  but  before  morning  we  had  emerged  from  the  mountains 
and  were  moored  to  the  bank,  to  await  daylight  for  the  passage 
of  the  last  rapid. 

In  the  mouth  of  the  pass  lies  an  island,  which  rises  into  a 
remarkable  conical  peak,  about  seven  hundred  feet  in  height 
It  is  called  the  Rowyan  (thirst  assuaged),  while  a  lofty  summit 
of  the  range  of  Gerri  bears  the  name  of  Djebel  Attshan  (the 
Mountain  of  Thirst).  The  latter  stands  on  a  basis  of  arid 
sand,  whence  its  name,  but  the  Rowyan  is  encircled  by  the 
arms  of  the  Nile.  In  the  Wady  Beit-Naga,  some  three  or  four 
hours'  journey  eastward  from  the  river,  are  the  ruined  temples 
of  Naga  and  Mesowurat,  described  by  Hoskins.  The  date  of 
their  erection  has  been  ascertained  by  Lepsius  to  be  coeval 


DRINKING   MAREESA.  267 

with  that  of  Meroe.  We  here  saw  many  crocodiles,  basking  oi 
the  warm  sand-banks.  One  group  of  five  were  enormous  mon- 
sters, three  of  them  being  at  least  fifteen,  and  the  other  two 
twenty  feet  in  length.  They  lazily  dragged  their  long  bodiea 
into  the  water  as  we  approached,  l>ut  returned  after  we  had 
passed.  The  zikzaks  were  hopping  familiarly  about  them,  on 
the  sand,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  they  do  service  to  the  croco- 
diles in  the  manner  related  by  the  Arabs. 

The  river  was  still  studded  with  islands — some  mere  frag- 
ments of  rock  covered  with  bushes,  and  some  large  level  tracts, 
flourishing  with  rich  fields  of  cotton  and  dourra.  About  noon, 
we  passed  a  village  on  the  eastern  bank,  and  I  sent  Ali  and 
Beshir  ashore  to  procure  supplies,  for  my  ram  was  finished. 
Ali  found  only  one  fowl,  which  the  people  did  not  wish  to  sell, 
but,  Turk-like,  he  took  it  forcibly  and  gave  them  the  usual 
once.  Beshir  found  some  mareesa,  a  fermented  drink  made 
of  dourra,  and  for  two  piastres  procured  two  jars  of  it,  holding 
two  gallons  each,  which  were  brought  down  to  the  boat  by  a 
pair  of  sturdy  Dinka  women,  whose  beauty  was  almost  a  match 
for  Bakhita.  The  mareesa  had  an  agreeable  flavor  and  very 
little  intoxicating  property.  I  noticed,  however,  that  after 
Beshir  had  drunk  nearly  a  gallon,  he  sang  and  danced  rather 
more  than  usual,  and  had  much  to  say  of  a  sweetheart  of  his, 
who  lived  in  El-Metemma,  and  who  bore  the  charming  name 
of  Gammero-Betahadjero.  Bakhita,  after  drinking  an  equal 
portion,  complained  to  me  bitterly  of  my  white  sheep,  which 
bad  nibbed  off  the  ends  of  the  woolly  twists  adorning  her  head, 
but  I  comforted  her  by  the  present  of  half  a  piastre,  for  the 
purpose  of  buying  mutton-fat. 

As   the  wind  fell,  at  sunset,  we  reached  a  long  slope  of 


J68  JOURNEY  TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

snowy  sand,  on  the  island  of  Aussee.  Achmet  went  to  the 
huts  of  the  inhabitants,  where  he  was  kindly  received  and  fur- 
nished with  milk.  I  walked  for  an  hour  up  and  down  the 
beautiful  beach,  breathing  the  mild,  cool  evening  air,  heavy 
with  delicious  odors.  The  glassy  Nile  beside  me  reflected  the 
last  orange-red  hues  of  sunset,  and  the  evening  star,  burning 
with  a  white,  sparry  lustre,  made  a  long  track  of  light  across 
his  breast.  I  remembered  that  it  was  my  birthday — the  fourth 
time  I  had  spent  my  natal  anniversary  in  a  foieign  land.  The 
first  had  been  in  Germany,  the  second  in  Italy,  the  third  in 
Mexico,  and  now  the  last,  in  the  wild  heart  of  Africa.  They 
were  all  pleasant,  but  this  was  the  best  of  all. 

When  I  returned  to  the  vessel,  I  found  my  carpet  and 
cushions  spread  on  the  sand,  and  Ali  waiting  with  my  pipe. 
The  evening  entertainment  commenced  :  I  was  listening  to  an 
Arabian  tale,  and  watching  the  figures  of  the  boatmen,  grouped 
around  a  fire  they  had  kindled  in  a  field  of  dookhn,  when  the 
wind  came  up  with  a  sudden  gust  and  blew  out  the  folds  of  my 
idle  flag.  Instantly  the  sand  was  kicked  over  the  brands,  the 
carpet  taken  up,  all  hands  called  on  board,  and  we  dashed  away 
on  the  dark  river  with  light  hearts.  I  rose  before  sunrise  the 
next  morning,  and  found  the  wind  unchanged.  We  were  sail- 
ing between  low  shores  covered  with  grain-fields,  and  a  sandy 
island  lay  in  front.  The  ra'is  no  sooner  saw  me  than  he  called 
my  attention  to  the  tops  of  some  palm-trees  that  appeared  on 
the  horizon,  probably  six  or  eight  miles  distant.  They  grew 
in  the  gardens  of  Khartoum !  We  reached  the  point  of  the 
broad,  level  island  that  divides  the  waters  of  the  two  Niles, 
and  could  soon  distinguish  the  .single  minaret  and  buildings  of 
the  city.  A  boat,  coming  down  from  the  White  Nile,  passed 


ABRIVAL    AT   KHARTOUM.  269 

08  on  the  right,  and  another,  bound  for  Khartoum,  led  ifs  up 
the  Blue  Nile.  The  proper  division  between  the  two  rivers  ia 
the  point  of  land  upon  which  Khartoum  is  built,  but  the  chan- 
nel separating  it  from  the  island  opposite  is  very  narrow,  and 
the  streams  do  not  fully  meet  and  mingle  their  waters  till  the 
island  is  passed. 

The  city  presented  a  picturesque — and  to  my  eyes,  accus- 
tomed to  the  mud  huts  of  the  Ethiopian  villages — a  really 
stately  appearance,  as  we  drew  near.  The  line  of  buildings 
extended  for  more  than  a  mile  along  the  river,  and  many  of 
the  houses  were  embowered  in  gardens  of  palm,  acacia,  orange 
and  tamarind  trees.  The  Palace  of  the  Pasha  had  a  certain 
appearance  of  dignity,  though  its  walls  were  only  unburnt 
brick,  and  his  harcem,  a  white,  two-story  building,  looked  cool 
and  elegant  amid  the  palms  that  shaded  it.  Egyptian  soldiers, 
in  their  awkward,  half-Frank  costume,  were  lounging  on  the 
bank  before  the  Palace,  and  slaves  of  inky  blackness,  resplen- 
dent in  white  and  red  livery,  were  departing  on  donkeys  on 
their  various  errands.  The  slope  of  the  bank  was  broken  at 
short  intervals  by  water-mills,  and  files  of  men  with  skins,  and 
women  with  huge  earthen  jars  on  their  heads,  passed  up  and 
down  between  the  water's  edge  and  the  openings  of  the  narrow 
lanes  leading  between  the  gardens  into  the  city.  The  boat  of 
the  Governor  of  Berber,  rowed  by  twelve  black  slaves,  put  off 
from  shore,  and  moved  slowly  down  stream,  against  the  north 
wind,  as  we  drew  up  and  moored  the  America  below  the  gar- 
den of  the  Catholic  Mission.  It  was  the  twelfth  of  January; 
I  had  made  the  journey  from  Assouan  to  Khartoum  in  twenty- 
nix  days,  and  from  Cairo  in  fifty-seven. 


270  JOUBNEY    TO    CKXIJiAL    AFRICA 


CHAPTER    XXL 

LIFE     IN     KHARTOUM. 

The  American  Flag — A  Rencontre — Search  for  a  House — The  Austrian  Consular  Agent 
— Description  of  hit  Residence — The  Garden — The  Menagerie — Barbaric  I'omp  and 
State — Picturesque  Character  of  the  Society  of  Kh'artoum — Foundation  and  Growth 
at  the  City — Its  Appearance — The  Population — Unhealthiness  of  the  Climate— 
Assembly  of 'Ethiopian  Chieftains — Visit  of  Two  Sh»khs— Dinner  and  Fireworks. 

AT  the  time  of  my  arrival  in  Khartoum,  there  were  not  more 
than  a  dozen  vessels  in  port,  and  the  only  one  which  would  pass 
for  respectable  in  Egypt  was  the  Pasha's  dahabiyeh.  I  had 
but  an  open  merchant-boat,  yet  my  green  tent  and  flag  gave  it 
quite  a  showy  air,  and  I  saw  that  it  Created  some  little  sensa- 
tion among  the  spectators.  The  people  looked  at  the  flag  with 
astonishment,  for  the  stars  and  stripes  had  never  before  been 
seen  in  Khartoum.  At  the  earnest  prayer  of  the  ra'i-,  who 
was  afraid  the  boat  would  be  forcibly  impressed  into  the  ,-er- 
vice  of  the  Government,  and  was  anxious  to  get  back  to  his 
sick  family  in  El  Metemma,  I  left  the  flag  flying  until  he  was 
ready  to  lea*e.  Old  Bakhita,  in  her  dumb,  ignorant  way,  ex- 
orrssed  great  surprise  and  grief  when  she  learned  that  Achmel 
and  I  were  going  to  desert  the  vessel.  She  had  an  indefinite 


8KARCH    FOH    A    HOUSE.  271 

idea  that  we  had  become  part  and  parcel  of  it,  and  would  re- 
main on  board  for  the  rest  of  our  lives. 

I  took  Achmet  and  started  immediately  in  search  of  a 
house,  as  in  those  lands  a  traveller  who  wishes  to  be  respect- 
able, must  take  a  residence  on  arriving  at  a  city,  even  if  he 
only  intends  to  stay  two  or  three  days.  Over  the  mud  walls 
on  either  side  of  the  lane  leading  up  from  the  water,  I  could 
look  into  wildernesses  of  orange,  date,  fig,  and  pomegranate 
trees,  oleanders  in  bloom  and  trailing  vines.  We  entered  a 
tolerable  street,  cleanly  swept,  and  soon  came  to  a  coffee-house. 
Two  or  three  persons  were  standing  at  the  door,  one  of  whom 
— a  fat,  contented-looking  Turk — eyed  Achmet  sharply.  The 
two  looked  at  each  other  a  moment  in  mutual  doubt  and  aston- 
ishment, and  then  fell  into  each  other's  arms.  It  was  a  Syrian 
merchant,  whom  Achmet  had  known  in  Cairo  and  Beyrout. 
"  O  master ! "  said  he,  his  dark  face  radiant  with  delight,  as 
he  clasped  the  hand  of  the  Syrian  :  "  there  never  was  such  a 
lucky  journey  as  this  !  " 

The  merchant,  who  had  been  two  years  in  Khartoum,  ac- 
companied us  in  our  search.  We  went  first  to  the  residence 
of  the  shekh  of  the  quarter,  who  was  not  at  home.  Two  small 
boys,  the  sons  of  one  of  a  detachment  of  Egyptian  physicians, 
who  had  recei.lly  arrived,  received  me.  They  complained  bit- 
terly of  Soudan,  and  longed  to  get  back  again  to  Cairo.  We 
then  went  to  the  Governor  of  the  city,  but  he  was  absent  in 
Kordofan.  Finally,  in  wandering  about  the  streets,  we  met  a 
certain  Ali  Eflfendi,  who  took  us  to  a  house  which  would  be 
vacant  the  next  day.  It  was  a  large  mud  palace,  containing  an 
outer  and  inner  divan,  two  sleeping-rooms,  a  kitchen,  store- 
rooms, apartments  for  servants,  and  an  inclosed  court-yard  and 


272  JOURNEY   TO   CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Itables,  all  of  which  were  to  be  had  at  one  hundred  piastres  a 
month — an  exorbitant  price,  as  I  afterwards  learned.  Before 
engaging  it,  I  decided  to  ask  the  advice  of  the  Austrian  Con 
sular  Agent,  Dr.  Reitz,  for  whom  I  had  letters  from  the  Eng- 
lish and  Austrian  Consuls  in  Cairo.  He  received  me  with  true 
German  cordiality,  aiid  would  hear  of  nothing  else  but  that  I 
should  immediately  take  possession  of  an  unoccupied  room  in 
his  house.  Accordingly  the  same  day  of  my  arrival  beheld  me 
installed  in  luxurious  quarters,  with  one  of  the  most  brave, 
generous  and  independent  of  men  as  my  associate. 

As  the  Consul's  residence  was  the  type  of  a  house  of  the 
best  class  in  Khartoum,  a  description  of  it  may  give  some  idea 
of  life  in  the  place,  under  the  most  agreeable  circumstances. 
The  ground-plot  was  one  hundred  and  thirty  paces  square,  and 
surrounded  by  a  high  mud  wall.  Inside  of  this  stood  the  dwell- 
ing, which  was  about  half  that  length,  and  separated  from  it 
by  a  narrow  garden  and  court-yard.  Entering  the  court  by 
the  gate,  a  flight  of  steps  conducted  to  the  divan,  or  recep- 
tion-room, in  the  second  story.  From  the  open  antechamber 
one  might  look  to  the  south  over  the  gray  wastes  of  Sennaar, 
or,  if  the  sun  was  near  his  setting,  see  a  reach  in  the  White 
Nile,  flashing  like  the  point  of  an  Arab  spear.  The  divan  had 
a  cushioned  seat  around  three  sides,  and  matting  on  the  floor, 
and  was  really  a  handsome  room,  although  its  walls  were  mud, 
covered  with  a  thin  coating  of  lime,  and  its  roof  palm-logs 
overlaid  with  coarse  matting,  on  which  rested  a  layer  of  mud 
a  foot  thick.  In  the  second  story  were  also  the  Consular  Of- 
fice and  a  sleeping- room.  The  basement  contained  the  kitchen, 
store-rooms,  and  servants'  rooms.  The  remainder  of  the  house 
was  only  one  story  in  height,  and  had  a  balcony  looking  on  the 


THE   MENAJERIE.  373 

garden,  and  completely  embowered  in  flowering  vines.  The 
only  rooms  were  the  dining-haU,  with  cushioned  divans  on  each 
side  and  a  drapery  of  the  Austrian  colors  at  the  end,  and  my 
apartment,  which  overlooked  a  small  garden-court,  wherein  two 
large  ostriches  paced  up  and  down,  and  a  company  of  wild 
geese  ami  wild  swine  made  continual  discord.  The  court  at 
the  entrance  communicated  with  the  stables,  which  contained 
the  Consul's  horses — a  white  steed,  of  I  he  pure  Arabian  blood 
of  Nedjid,  and  the  red  stallion  appropriated  to  my  use,  which 
was  sent  by  the  King  of  Dar-Fur  to  Lattif  Pasha,  and  present- 
ed by  him  to  the  Consul.  A  hejin,  or  trained  dromedary,  of 
unusual  ~ize,  stood  in  the  court,  and  a  tame  lioness  was  tied  to 
a  stake  in  the  corner.  She  was  a  beautiful  and  powerful  beast, 
and  I  never  passed  her  without  taking  her  head  between  my 
knees,  or  stroking  her  tawny  hide  until  she  leaned  against  mb 
like  a  cat  and  licked  my  hand. 

Passing  through  a  side-door  into  the  garden,  we  came  upon 
a  whole  menagerie  of  animals.  Under  the  long  arbors,  covered 
with  luxuriant  grape-vines,  stood  two  surly  hyenas,  a  wild 
ass  from  the  mountains  of  the  Atbara,  and  an  Abyssinian  mule. 
A  tall  marabout  (a  bird  of  the  crane  species,  with  a  pouch-bill) 
stalked  about  the  garden,  occasionally  bending  a  hinge  in  the 
middle  of  his  long  legs,  and  doubling  them  backwards,  so  that 
he  used  half  of  them  for  a  seat.  Adjoining  the  stable  was  a 
large  sheep-yard,  in  which  were  gathered  together  gazelles, 
strange  varieties  of  sheep  and  goats  from  the  countries  of  the 
White  Nile,  a  virgin-crane,  and  a  large  nntilopus  leucoryx^ 
from  Kordofan,  with  curved  horns  four  feet  in  length.  My 
favorite,  however,  was  the  leopard,  which  was  a  most  playful 
and  affectionate  creature  except  at  meal-time.  He  was  no1 
12* 


»74  JOURXKY   TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

more  than  half  grown,  and  had  all  the  wiles  of  an  intelligent 
kitten,  climbing  his  post  and  springing  upon  me,  or  creeping 
up  slyly  and  seizing  my  ankle  in  his  mouth.  The  garden, 
which  was  watered  by  a  well  and  string  of  buckets  turned  t>y 
an  ox,  had  a  rich  variety  of  fruit-trees.  The  grape  season  waa 
just  over,  though  I  had  a  few  of  the  last  hunches  ;  figs  were 
ripening  from  day  to  day,  oranges  and  lemons  were  in  fruit 
and  flower,  bananas  blooming  for  another  crop,  and  the  pome- 
granate and  kishteh,  or  custard-apple,  hung  heavy  on  the 
branches.  There  waa  also  a  plantation  of  date-tree?  and 
sugar-cane,  and  a  great  number  of  ornamental  shrubs 

In  all  these  picturesque  features  of  my  residence  in  Khar- 
toum, I  fully  realized  that  I  had  at  last  reached  Central  Afri- 
ca. In  our  mode  of  life,  also,  there  was  a  rich  flavor  of  that 
barbaric  pomp  and  state  which  one  involuntarily  associates 
with  the  name  of  Soudan.  We  arose  at  dawn,  and  at  sunrUe 
were  in  the  saddle.  Sometimes  I  mounted  the  red  stallion,  of 
the  wild  breed  of  Dar-Fur,  and  sometimes  one  of  the  Consul's 
tall  and  fleet  dromedaries.  Six  dark  attendants,  in  white  and 
scarlet  dresses,  followed  us  on  dromedaries  and  two  grooms 
on  foot,  ran  before  us,  to  clear  a  way  through  the  streets.  Af- 
ter passing  through  Khartoum,  we  frequently  made  long  excur- 
sions up  the  banks  of  the  two  Niles,  or  out  upon  the  boundless 
plain  between  them.  In  this  way,  I  speedily  became  familiar 
with  the  city  and  its  vicinity,  and  as,  on  our  return,  I  always 
accompanied  the  Consul  on  all  his  visits  to  the  various  digni- 
taries, I  had  every  opportunity  of  studying  the  peculiar  life-  of 
the  place,  and  gaining  some  idea  of  its  governing  princijleg. 
As  ;he  only  city  of  Central  Africa  which  has  a  regular  com- 
munication with  the  Mediterranean  (by  which  it  occasional!) 


SOCIETY   IN    KHARTOUM.  278 

JOceives  a  ray  of  light  from  the  civilized  world  beyond),  it  has 
become  a  capital  on  a  small  scale,  and  its  society  is  a  curious 
compound  of  Christian,  Turk  and  Barbarian.  On  the  same 
day,  I  have  had  a  whole  sheep  set  before  me,  in  the  house  of 
an  Ethiopian  Princess,  who  wore  a  ring  in  her  nose;  taken 
coffee  and  sherbet  with  the  Pasha ;  and  drank  tea,  prepared  in 
the  true  English  style,  in  the  parlor  of  a  European.  When 
to  these  remarkable  contrasts  is  added  the  motley  character  of 
its  native  population,  embracing  representatives  from  almost 
every  tribe  between  Dar-Fur  and  the  Red  Sea,  between  Egypt 
and  the  Negro  kingdoms  of  the  White  Nile,  it  will  readily  be 
seen  how  rich  a  field  of  observation  Khartoum  offers  to  the 
traveller.  Nevertheless,  those  who  reside  there,  almost  with- 
out exception,  bestow  upon  the  city  and  country  all  possible 
maledictions.  Considered  as  a  place  of  residence,  other  ques- 
tions come  into  play,  and  they  are  perhaps  not  far  wrong. 

Khartoum  is  the  most  remarkable — I  had  almost  said  the 
only  example  of  physical  progress  in  Africa,  in  this  century. 
Where,  thirty  years  ago,  there  was  not  even  a  dwelling,  unless 
it  might  be  the  miserable  tokul,  or  straw  hut  of  the  Ethiopian 
Fellah,  now  stands  a  city  of  some  thirty  or  forty  thousand  in- 
habitants, daily  increasing  in  size  and  importance,  and  gradually 
drawing  into  its  mart  the  commerce  of  the  immense  regions 
of  Central  Africa.  Its  foundation,  I  believe,  is  due  to  Ismail 
Pasha  (son  of  Mohammed  Ali),  who,  during  his  conquests  of 
the  kingdoms  of  Shendy  and  Sennaar,  in  the  years  1821  and 
1822,  recognized  the  importance,  in  a  military  and  commercial 
sense,  of  establishing  a  post  at  the  confluence  of  the  two  Niles 
Mohammed  Bey  Defterdar,  who  succeeded  him,  seconded  the 
plan,  and  ere  long  it  was  determined  to  make  Khartoum,  or 


176  JOUBNET   TO   CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

account  of  its  central  position,  the  capital  of  the  Egyptian 
pashalik  of  Soudan.  Standing  at  the  mouth  of  the  Blue  Nile, 
which  flows  down  from  the  gold  and  iron  mountains  of  Abys- 
sinia, and  of  the  White  Nile,  the  only  avenue  to  a  dozen  N<  gm 
kingdoms,  rich  in  ivory  and  gum,  and  being  nearly  equidistant 
from  the  conquered  provinces  of  Sennaar,  Kordofan,  Si 
and  Berber,  it  speedily  outgrew  the  old  Ethiopian  cities,  and 
drew  to  itself  the  greater  part  of  their  wealth  and  commercial 
activity.  Now  it  is  the  metropolis  of  all  the  eastern  part  of 
Soudan,  and  the  people  speak  of  it  in  much  the  same  style  as 
the  Egyptians  speak  of  their  beloved  Cairo. 

The  town  is  larger,  cleaner  and  better  built  than  any  of 
the  cities  of  Upper  Egypt,  except  perhaps  Siout  It  extends 
for  about  a  mile  along  the  bank  of  the  Blue  Nile,  facing  the 
north,  and  is  three-quarters  of  a  mile  in  its  greatest  breadth. 
The  part  next  the  river  is  mostly  taken  up  with  the  garden- 
and  dwellings  of  Beys  and  other  government  officers,  and 
wealthy  merchants.  The  gardens  of  the  Pasha,  of  Mous>a  Bey, 
Musakar  Bey  and  the  Catholic  Mission  are  all  large  and  beau- 
tiful, and  towards  evening,  when  the  north  wind  rises,  show*  r 
the  fragrance  of  their  orange  and  mimosa  blossoms  over  the 
whole  town.  The  dwellings,  which  stand  in  them,  cover  a 
large  space  of  ground,  but  are,  for  the  most  part,  only  one 
story  in  height,  as  the  heavy  summer  rains  would  speedily  bea< 
down  mud  walls  of  greater  height.  The  Pasha's  palace,  wh'ff 
was  built  during  the  year  previous  to  my  visit,  is  of  bi  :nt 
brick,  much  of  which  was  taken  from  the  ancient  Chiif  Jan 
ruins  of  Abou-Harass,  on  the  Blue  Nile.  It  is  a  quadnvigu- 
lar  building,  three  hundred  feet  square,  with  a  large  opf.  court 
in  the  centre.  Its  front  formed  one  side  of  a  square  which 


THE   CITY   AND   POPULATION.  277 

when  complete, "will  be  surrounded  by  other  offices  of  govern- 
ment. For  Soudan,  it  is  a  building  of  some  pretension,  and 
the  Pasha  took  great  pride  in  exhibiting  it.  He  told  me  that 
the  Arab  sliekh-  who  visited  him  would  not  believe  that  it  was 
the  work  of  man  alone.  Allah  must  have  helped  him  to  raise 
such  a  wonderful  structure.  It  has  an  inclosed  arched  corri- 
dor in  front,  in  the  Italian  style,  and  a  square  tower  over  the 
entrance.  At  the  time  of  my  visit  Abdallah  Effendi  was 
building  a  very  handsome  two-story  house  of  burnt  brick,  and 
the.  Catholic  priests  intended  erecting  another,  as  soon  as  they 
should  have  established  themselves  permanently.  Within  a 
few  months,  large  additions  had  been  made  to  the  bazaar, 
while  the  houses  of  the  slaves,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city, 
were  constantly  springing  up  like  ant-hills. 

There  is  no  plan  whatever  in  tlie  disposition  of  the  build 
ings.  Each  man  surrounds  his  property  with  a  mud  wall,  re- 
gardless of  its  location  with  respect  to  others,  and  in  going 
from  one  point  to  another,  one  is  obliged  to  make  the  most 
perplexing  zigzags.  I  rarely  ventured  far  on  foot,  as  I  soon 
became  bewildered  in  the  labyrinth  of  blank  walls.  When 
mounted  on  the  Consul's  tallest  dromedary,  I  looked  down  on 
the  roofs  of  the  native  houses,  and  could  take  my  bearings 
without  difficulty.  All  the  mysteries  of  the  lower  life  of 
Khartoum  were  revealed  to  me,  from  such  a  lofty  post.  On 
each  side  I  looked  into  pent  yards  where  the  miserable  Arab 
and  Negro  families  lazily  basked  in  the  sun  during  the  day,  or 
into  the  filthy  nests  where  they  crawled  at  night.  The  swarms 
of  children  which  they  bred  in  those  dens  sat  naked  in  the 
dust,  playing  with  vile  yellow  dogs,  and  sometimes  a  lean  bui» 
Jen  camel  stood  in  the  corner.  The  only  furniture  to  be  seen 


878  JOURNEY  TO    CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

was  a  water-skin,  a  few  pots  and  jars,  a  basket  or  two,  and 
sometimes  an  angareb,  or  coarse"  wooden  frame  covered  with  a 
netting  of  ropes,  and  serving  as  seat  and  bed.  Nearly  half  thi 
population  of  the  place  are  slaves,  brought  from  (he  mountains 
above  Fazogl,  or  from  the  land  of  the  Diukas,  on  the  White 
Nile.  One's  commiseration  of  these  degraded  races  is  almost 
overcome  by  his  disgust  with  their  appearance  and  habits,  and 
I  found  even  the  waste  plain  that  stretches  towards  Sennaar  a 
relief  after  threading  the  lanes  of  the  quarters  where  they  live. 

Notwithstanding  the  nature  of  its  population,  Khartoum 
is  kept  commendably  neat  and  clean.  It  will  be  a  lucky  day 
for  Rome  and  Florence  when  their  streets  exhibit  no  more 
filth  than  those  of  this  African  city.  The  bazaars  only  are 
swept  every  morning,  but  the  wind  performs  this  office  for  the 
remainder  of  the  streets.  The  soog,  or  market,  is  held  in  a 
free  space,  opening  upon  the  inland  plain,  where  the  country 
people  bring  their  sheep,  fowls,  camels,  dourra,  vegetables  and 
other  common  products.  The  slaughtering  of  animals  takes 
place  every  morning  on  the  banks  of  the  Blue  Nile,  east  of  the 
city,  which  is  thus  entirely  free  from  the  effluvia  arising  there- 
from. Here  the  sheep,  cows,  goats  and  camels  are  killed, 
skinned  and  quartered  in  the  open  air,  and  it  is  no  unusual 
thing  to  see  thirty  or  forty  butchers  at  work  on  as  many  dif- 
ferent animals,  each  surrounded  by  an  attendant  group  of  vul- 
tures, hawks,  cranes,  crows  and  other  carnivorous  birds.  They 
are  never  molested  by  the  people,  and  we  sometimes  rode 
through  thousands  of  them,  which  had  so  gorged  themselves 
that  they  scarcely  took  the  trouble  to  move  out  of  our  way. 

The  place  labors  under  the  disadvantage  of  being  the  most 
•nhealthy  part  of  one  of  the  most  unhealthy  regions  in  the 


THE   CLIMATE.  271 

World.  From  the  southern  frontier  of  Nubia,  where  the  tropi- 
cal rains  begin  to  fall,  to  the  table-land  of  Abyssinia  on  the 
south,  and  as  far  up  the  White  Nile  as  has  yet  been  explored, 
Soud&n  is  devastated  by  fevers  of  the  most  malignant  charac- 
ter. The  summers  are  fatal  to  at  least  one-half  of  the  Turks, 
Egyptians  and  Europeans  who  make  their  residence  there,  and 
the  natives  themselves,  though  the  mortality  is  not  so  great 
among  them,  rarely  pass  through  the  year  without  an  attack 
of  fever.  I  arrived  during  the  most  healthy  part  of  the  year, 
and  yet  of  all  the  persons  I  saw,  three-fourths  were  complain- 
ing of  some  derangement  of  the  system.  The  military  hospi- 
tal, which  I  visited,  was  filled  with  cases  of  fever,  dysentery 
and  small-pox.  I  was  in  such  good  bodily  condition  from  my 
journey  through  the  Desert  that  I  could  scarcely  conceive  the 
sensation  of  sickness,  and  the  generous  diet  and  invigorating 
exercise  I  enjoyed  secured  me  from  all  fear  of  an  attack. 
Travellers  are  not  agreed  as  to  the  cause  of  this  mortality  in 
Soudan.  Some  attribute  it  to  the  presence  of  infusoriae  in  the 
water;  yet  we  drank  the  pure,  mountain-born  flood  of  the  Blue 
Nile,  and  filtered  it  beforehand.  I  am  disposed  to  side  with 
Russegger,  who  accounts  ft>r  it  entirely  by  the  miasma  arising 
from  decayed  vegetation,  during  the  intense  heats.  The  coun- 
try around  Khartoum  is  a  dead  level  ;  the  only  mountain  to 
be  seen  is  the  long  ridge  of  Djebel  Gerrari,  twelve  miles  tc  the 
north.  Behind  the  town,  the  White  Nile  curves  to  the  east, 
and  during  the  inundation  his  waters  extend  even  to  the  sub- 
urb?, almost  insulating  the  place.  The  unusual  sickness  of  the 
winter  of  1852  might  be  accounted  for  by  the  inundation  of 
the  previous  summer,  which  was  so  much  higher  than  ordinary 
that  the  people  were  obliged  to  erect  dykes  to  keep  the  watei 


880  JOURNEY    TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

out  of  the  streets.  The  opposite  bank  of  the  river  is  consid 
ered  more  healthy ;  and  in  the  town  of  Halfay,  only  ten  milei 
distant,  the  average  mortality  is  much  less. 

I  was  fortunate  in  reaching  Khartoum  at  a  very  interesting 
period.  All  the  principal  shekhs  of  the  different  tribes  be- 
tween the  Nile  and  the  Red  Sea  were  then  collected  there, 
and  as  Dr.  Reitz  was  on  friendly  terms  with  all  of  them,  I 
had  the  opportunity  of  making  their  acquaintance,  and  could 
have  readily  procured  a  safe-conduct  through  their  territories, 
if  I  had  been  disposed  to  make  explorations  in  that  direction. 

During  the  summer  there  had  been  trouble  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Sennaar,  and  a  general  movement  against  the 
Egyptian  rule  was  feared.  In  October  and  November,  how- 
ever, Moussa  Bey  made  a  campaign  in  the  regions  about  and 
beyond  the  Atbara,  and  returned  with  the  chief  malcontents 
in  chains.  They  were  afterwards  liberated,  but  had  been  re- 
tained in  Khartoum  until  some  disputed  questions  should  be 
settled.  On  the  night  of  my  arrival,  the  Consul  received  a 
visit  of  ceremony  from  the  two  principal  ones :  Hamed,  the 
chief  shekh  of  the  Bisharees,  and  Owd-el-Kerim,  son  of  the 
great  shekh  of  the  Shukorees,  \vhich.inhabit  the  wide  territory 
between  the  Atbara  and  the  Blue  Nile.  They  were  accom- 
panied by  several  attendants,  and  by  Mohammed  Kheyr,  the 
commander  of  the  Shygheean  cavalry  employed  in  the  late  ex- 
pedition. The  latter  was  a  fierce-looking  black  in  rich  Turk- 
ish costume. 

Hamed  was  a  man  of  middle  size,  black,  but  with  straight 
features  and  a  mild,  serious  expression  of  face.  He  was  dress- 
ed in  white,  as  well  as  his  attendant  whose  bushy  hair  wai 
twisted  into  countless  strings  and  pierced  with  a  new  wooden 


VISIT   OF   ARAB   SHKKH3.  281 

ikewer.  The  Shukoree  shekh  arrived  last.  We  were  seated 
on  the  divan,  and  all  rose  when  he  entered.  He  was  a  tall, 
powerful  man.  with  large,  jet-black  eyes  and  a  bold,  fierce  face. 
He  wore  a  white  turh;m  and  flowing  robes  of  the  same  color, 
with  a  fringe  and  stripe  of  crimson  around  the  border.  The 
Consul  advanced  to  the  edge  of  the  carpet  to  meet  him,  when 
the  shekli  opened  his  arms  and  the  two  fell  upon  each  other's 
necks.  Coffee  and  pipes  were  then  served,  and  water  was 
brought  for  the  washing  preparatory  to  dinner.  Hamed  and 
the  Shygheean  captain  washed  only  their  hands,  but  the  great 
Owd-el-Kerim  washed  his  hands,  face  and  feet,  and  occupied 
nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour  at  his  devotions,  bowing  his  head 
many  times  to  the  earth  and  repeating  the  name  of  Allah  with 
deep  emphasis.  We  passed  through  the  garden  to  the  dining- 
room,  where  the  shekhs  were  greatly  amazed  at  seeing  a  table 
set  in  European  style.  They  all  failed  in  managing  the  knives 
and  forks,  except  Owd-el-Kerim,  who  watched  the  Consul  and 
myself,  and  did  his  part  with  dignity.  Achmet  had  made  a 
vermicelli  soup,  which  they  eyed  very  suspiciously,  and  did  not 
venture  to  take  more  than  a  few  mouthfuls.  They  no  doubt 
went  away  with  the  full  belief  that  the  Franks  devour  worms. 
They  were  at  a  loss  how  to  attack  the  roast  mutton,  until  I 
carved  it  for  them,  but  did  such  execution  with  their  fingers 
among  the  stew.s  and  salads  that  the  dishes  were  soon  emptied. 
After  they  had  again  partaken  of  coffee  and  pipes  in  the 
divan,  the  Consul  ordered  two  or  three  rockets,  which  had  been 
left  from  his  Christmas  celebration,  to  be  sent  up  in  order  to 
satisfy  the  curiosity  of  his  guests,  who  had  heard  much  of 
those  wonderful  fires,  which  had  amazed  all  Khartoum,  three 
weeks  before.  The  shekh  sand  attendants  were  grouped  on 


282  JOURNEY   TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

the  balcony,  when  the  first  rocket  shot  hireing  into  the  air, 
drew  its  fiery  curve  through  the  darkness,  and  burst  into  a 
rain  of  yellow  stars.  "  Wallah  !  "  and  "  MashaUah  !  "  were 
echoed  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  the  desert  chiefs  could 
scarcely  contain  themselves,  from  astonishment  and  delight. 
The  second  rocket  went  up  quite  near  to  us,  and  sooner  than 
was  expected.  Hamed,  the  Bisharee  shekh,  was  so  startled 
that  he  threw  both  his  arms  around  the  Consul  and  held  fast 
for  dear  life,  and  even  the  great  Owd-el-Kerim  drew  a  long 
breath  and  ejaculated,  "  God  is  great!"  They  then  took 
their  leave,  deeply  impressed  with  *he  knowledge  and  wiadom 
of  the  Franks. 


VISIT   TO   THE    CATHOLIC   MISSION  283 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

VISITS     IN     KHARTOUM. 

TWt  to  the  Catholic  Mission— Dr.  Knoblecher,  the  Apostolic  Vicar— Monssa  Bay— 
Visit  to  Lattif  Pasha— Reception— The  Pasha's  Palace— Lions— We  Dine  with  thl 
Pasha — Ceremonies  upon  the  Occasion — Music — The  Quests— The  Franks  in  Khar- 
toum—Dr.  Peney— Visit  to  the  Sultana  Nasra— An  Ethiopian  Dinner— Character 
of  the  Sultana. 

ON  the  day  of  my  arrival,  Dr.  Reitz  proposed  a  visit  to  Dr. 
Knoblecher,  the  Apostolic  Vicar  of  the  Catholic  Missions  in 
Central  Africa,  who  had  returned  to  Khartoum  about  twenty 
days  previous.  The  Vicar's  name  was  already  familiar  to  me, 
from  the  account  of  his  voyage  up  the  White  Nile  in  1850, 
which  was  published  in  the  German  journals  during  bis  visit 
to  Europe,  and  it  had  been  my  design  to  propose  joining  his 
party,  in  case  he  had  carried  out  his  plan  of  making  a  second 
voyage  in  the  winter  of  1852.  He  ascended  as  far  as  lat  4° 
north,  or  about  sixty  miles  beyond  the  point  reached  by  D'Ar- 
naud  and  Werne,  and  therefore  stands  at  the  head  of  Nilotic 
explorers. 

Preceded  by  two  attendants,  we  walked  through  the  town 
to  the  Catholic  Mission,  a  spacious  one-story  building  in  a  largt 
garden  near  the  river.  Entering  a  court,  in  the  centre  of 


994  JOT7RNKY  TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

which  grew  a  tall  tamarind  tree,  we  were  received  by  an  Italian 
monk,  in  flowing  robes,  who  conducted  us  into  a  second  court, 
inclosed  by  the  residence  of  the  Vicar.  Here  we  met  two  othei 
priests,  a  German  and  a  Hungarian,  dressed  in  flowing  Orien 
tal  garments.  They  ushered  us  into  a  large  room,  carpeted 
with  matting,  and  with  a  comfortable  divan  around  the  sides. 
The  windows  looked  into  a  garden,  which  was  filled  with 
orange,  fig  and  banana  trees,  and  fragrant  with  jasmine  and 
mimosa  blossoms.  We  had  scarcely  seated  ourselves,  when 
the  monks  rose  and  remained  standing,  while  Dr.  Knoblecher 
entered.  He  was  a  small  man,  slightly  and  rather  delicately 
built,  and  not  more  than  thirty-five  years  of  age.  His  com- 
plexion was  fair,  his  eyes  a  grayish  blue,  and  his  beard,  which 
he  wore  flowing  upon  his  breast,  a  very  decided  auburn.  His 
face  was  one  of  those  which  wins  not  only  kindness  but  confi- 
dence from  all  the  world.  His  dress  consisted  of  a  white  tur- 
ban, and  a  flowing  robe  of  dark  purple  cloth.  He  is  a  man  of 
thorough  cultivation,  conversant  with  several  languages,  and 
possesses  an  amount  of  scientific  knowledge  which  will  make 
his  future  explorations  valuable  to  the  world.  During  my 
Stay  in  Khartoum  I  visited  him  frequently,  and  derived  from 
him  much  information  concerning  the  countries  of  Soudan  and 
their  inhabitants. 

On  our  return  we  called  upon  Moussa  Bey,  the  commander 
of  the  expedition  sent  into  the  lands  of  the  Shukorees  and  the 
Hallengas,  the  foregoing  summer.  He  was  then  ill  of  a  fever 
and  confined  to  his  bed,  but  we  entered  the  room  without  cere- 
mony, and  found  with  him  the  new  Governor  of  Berber  and 
Abd-el-Kader  Bey,  the  Governor  of  Kordofan,  besides  several 
secretaries  and  attendants.  Moussa  Bey  was  a  Turk,  perhap* 


VISIT   TO   LATTIF   PASHA.  285 

fifty  years  of  age,  and  had  a  strong,  sturdy,  energetic  face. 
Several  Arab  shekhs,  some  of  whom  had  been  taken  prisoner! 
in  the  late  expedition,  were  lounging  about  the  court-yards. 

The  day  after  my  arrival,  Dr.  Reitz  presented  me  to  Lattif 
Pasha,  the  Governor  of  Soudan.  The  Egyptian  officials  in 
Khartoum  generally  consider  themselves  as  exiles,  and  a  sta- 
tion in  Soudan  carries  with  it  a  certain  impression  of  disgrace. 
For  the  Pasha,  however,  it  is  an  office  of  great  importance  and 
responsibility,  and  its  duties  are  fully  as  arduous  as  those  of 
the  Viceroy  of  Egypt  himself.  The  provinces  under  his  rule 
constitute  a  territory  of  greater  extent  than  France,  and  there 
are  as  many  factions  among  the  native  tribes  as  parties  among 
the  French  politicians.  It  is  moreover,  in  many  respects,  an 
independent  sovereignty.  Its  great  distance  from  the  seat  of 
authority,  and  the  absence  of  any  regular  means  of  communica- 
tion except  the  government  post,  gives  the  Pasha  of  Soudan 
opportunities  of  which  he  never  fails  to  avail  himself.  Achmet 
Pasha  at  one  time  so  strengthened  himself  here  that  he  defied 
even  Mohammed  Ali,  and  it  is  still  whispered  that  foul  means 
were  used  to  get  rid  of  him.  Since  then,  rotation  in  office  ia 
found  to  be  good  policy,  and  the  Egyptian  Government  is  care- 
ful to  remove  a  Pasha  before  he  has  made  himself  dangerous. 
From  the  Turks  and  Europeans  in  Khartoum,  I  heard  little 
good  of  Lattif  Pasha.  His  character  was  said  to  be  violent 
and  arbitrary,  and  several  most  savage  acts  were  attributed  to 
him.  One  thing,  however,  was  said  in  favor  of  him,  and  it 
was  a  great  redeeming  trait  in  those  lands  :  he  did  not  enrich 
himself  by  cheating  the  government.  At  the  time  of  my  visit 
it  was  understood  that  he  had  been  recalled,  and  was  to  to 
superseded  by  Rustum  Pasha. 


286  JOURNEY  TO   CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

We  found  the  Pasha  seated  on  his  divan,  with  a  secretary 
before  him,  reading  a  file  of  documents.  The  guards  at  the 
door  presented  arms  as  we  entered,  and  the  Pasha  no  sooner 
saw  us  than  he  rose,  and  remained  standing  till  we  came  up. 
The  Consul  presented  me,  and  we  seated  ourselves  on  the  di- 
van, separated  from  him  by  a  pair  of  cushions.  Pipes  were 
brought  to  us  by  black  slaves,  and  after  a  few  commonplaces, 
he  turned  again  to  his  business.  The  Secretary  was  reading 
despatches  to  the  different  provinces  of  Soudan.  As  fast  as 
each  was  approved  and  laid  aside,  a  Memlook  slave  of  fifteen, 
who  appeared  to  fill  the  office  of  page,  stamped  them  with  the 
Pasha's  seal,  in  lieu  of  signature.  When  the  affairs  were  con- 
cluded, the  Pasha  turned  to  us  and  entered  into  conversation. 
He  was  a  man  of  forty-five  years  of  age,  of  medium  height,  but 
stoutly  built,  and  with  regular  and  handsome  features.  His 
complexion  was  a  pale  olive,  his  eyes  large  and  dark,  and  he 
wore  a  black  beard  and  moustaches,  very  neatly  trimmed.  Hia 
mouth  was  full,  and  when  he  smiled,  showed  a  perfect  set  of 
strong  white  teeth,  which  gave  a  certain  grimness  to  his  ex- 
pression. His  manner  was  refined,  but  had  that  feline  smooth- 
ness which  invariably  covers  sharp  claws.  If  I  had  met  him 
in  London  or  Paris,  in  Frank  costume,  I  should  have  set  him 
down  as  the  primo  basso  of  the  Italian  Opera.  He  was  plain- 
ly dressed  in  a  suit  of  dark-blue  cloth,  and  wore  a  small  tar- 
boosh on  his  head. 

Our  conversation  first  turned  upon  America,  and  finally 
upon  steam  navigation  and  maritrme  affairs  in  general.  He 
took  an  interest  in  such  subjects,  as  he  was  formerly  Admiral 
in  the  navy  of  Mohammed  Ali.  An  engraving  of  the  Turkish 
frigate  Sultan  Mahmoud,  which  was  built  by  the  American 


THE  PASHA'S  p ALACK.  287 

Eckford,  hung  on  the  wall  opposite  me.  Over  the  divan  wa* 
a  portrait  of  Sultan  Abdul-Medjid,  and  on  each  side  two  Arabic 
sentences,  emblazoned  on  a  ground  of  blue  Mid  crimson.  The 
apartment  was  spacious  and  lofty ;  the  ceiling  was  of  smooth 
palm-logs,  and  the  floor  of  cement,  beaten  hard  and  polished 
with  the  trowel.  I  expressed  my  surprise  to  the  Pasha  that 
he  had  erected  such  a  stately  building  in  the  short  space  of 
nine  months,  and  he  thereupon  proposed  to  show  it  to  me  more 
in  detail.  He  conducted  us  to  a  reception-room,  covered  with 
fine  carpets,  and  furnished  with  mirrors  and  luxurious  divans; 
then  the  dining-room,  more  plainly  furnished,  the  bath  with 
Moorish  arches  glimmering  in  steamy  twilight,  and  his  private 
armory,  the  walls  of  which  were  hung  with  a  small  but  rich 
assortment  of  Turkish  and  European  weapons.  The  doors  of 
the  apartments  were  made  of  a  dark-red  wood,  of  very  fine 
grain,  closely  resembling  mahogany.  It  is  found  in  the  moun- 
tains of  Fazogl,  on  the  south-western  border  of  Abyssinia.  It 
is  susceptible  of  a  fine  polish,  and  the  Pasha  showed  me  a  large 
and  handsome  table  made  from  it. 

The  Pasha  then  led  us  into  the  court-yard,  where  the  work- 
men were  still  busy,  plastering  the  interior  of  the  corridors 
surrounding  it.  A  large  leopard  and  a  lion-whelp  of  six 
months  old,  were  chained  to  two  of  the  pillars.  A  younger 
whelp  ran  loose  about  the  court,  and  gave  great  diversion  to 
the  Pasha,  by  lying  in  wait  behind  the  pillars,  whence  he 
pounced  out  upon  any  young  boy-slave,  who  might  pass  that 
way.  The  little  fellow  would  take  to  his  heels  in  great  terror, 
and  scamper  across  the  court,  followed  by  the  whelp,  who  nc 
sooner  overtook  him  than  he  sprang  with  his  fore-paws  against 
the  boy's  back,  threw  him  down,  and  then  ran  off,  apparently 


188  JOTTRXET  TO   CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

?ery  much  delighted  with  the  sport.  He  had  the  free  range 
of  the  palace,  but  spent  the  most  of  his  time  in  the  kitchen 
where  he  would  leap  upon  a  table,  deliberately  lie  down,  and 
watch  the  movements  of  the  cooks  with  great  interest.  The 
Pasha  told  us  that  this  whelp  had  on  one  occasion  found  his 
way  to  the  harem,  where  his  presence  was  first  proclaimed  by 
the  screams  of  the  terrified  women.  The  leopard  was  a  large 
and  fierce  animal,  but  the  other  lion  was  a  rough,  good-humored 
fellow,  turning  over  on  his  back  to  be  played  with,  and  roar- 
ing frequently,  with  a  voice  that  resembled  the  low  notes  of 
a  melancholy  trombone.  From  this  court  we  passed  into  the 
outer  corridor  fronting  the  square,  when  the  jewelled  .-hebooks 
were  again  brought,  and  the  Pasha  discoursed  for  some  time  on 
the  nece.-sity  of  controlling  one's  passions  and  preserving  a  quiet 
temperament  under  all  circumstances.  When  we  rose  to  depart 
he  invited  us  to  return  and  dine  with  him  next  day. 

Towards  sunset  the  horses  were  got  ready ;  Dr.  Reitz  dow- 
ned his  uniform,  and  I  dressed  myself  in  Frank  costume,  with 
the  exception  of  the  tarboosh,  shawl  and  red  slippers.  We  called 
at  the  Catholic  Mission  on  our  way  to  the  Palace,  and  while 
conversing  with  the  monks  in  the  garden,  a  message  came  from 
the  Pasha  requesting  Aboona  Suleyman — (Padre  Solomon,  aa 
Dr.  Knoblecher  was  called  by  the  Copts  and  Mussulmans  in 
Khartoum) —  to  accompany  us.  We  therefore  set  out  on  foot 
witli  the  Vicar,  with  the  grooms  leading  the  horses  behind  us. 
The  Pa.>ha  received  us  at  the  entrance  of  his  reception-room, 
and  then  retired  to  pray,  before  further  conversation.  The  di- 
van at  the  further  end  of  the  room  was  divided  in  the  centre 
by  a  pile  of  cushions,  the  space  on  the  right  hand  being  reserved 
for  the  Pasha  alone.  The  Consul,  being  the  second  inde* 


CEREMONIES    BEFORE    DINNER.  289 

pendent  power,  seated  himself  on  the  left  hand,  Dr.  Knob- 
lecher  modestly  took  the  corner,  and  I  drew  up  my  legs  beside 
him,  on  the  side  divan.  After  a  short  absence — during  whicl^ 
we  also  were  supposed  to  have  said  our  prayers — the  Pasha 
returned,  saluted  us  a  second  time,  and  seated  himself.  Foui 
«laves  appeared  at  the  same  moment,  with  four  pipes,  which 
they  presented  to  us  in  the  order  of  our  rank,  commencing  with 
the  Pasha. 

When  the  aroma  of  the  delicate  Djebeli  tobacco  had  diffus- 
ed a  certain  amount  of  harmony  among  us,  the  conversation 
became  more  animated.  The  principal  subject  we  discussed 
was  the  coup  d'etat  of  Louis  Napoleon,  the  news  of  which  had 
just  arrived  by  dromedary  post,  in  twenty-four  days  from 
Cairo.  The  Pasha  said  it  was  precisely  the  thing  which  he 
had  long  ago  predicted  would  come  to  pass.  Louis  Napoleon, 
he  said,  would  behead  Thiers,  Cavaignac,  Lamoriciere  and  the 
others  whom  he  had  imprisoned,  and  make,  if  necessary,  twenty 
coups  d'etat,  after  which,  France  would  begin  to  prosper.  The 
French,  he  said,  must  be  well  beaten,  or  it  is  impossible 
to  govern  them.  The  conversation  had  hardly  commenced, 
when  a  slave  appeared,  bearing  a  silver  tray,  upon  which  were 
four  tiny  glasses  of  mastic  cordial,  a  single  glass  of  water,  and 
saucers  which  contained  bits  of  orange  and  pomegranate.  The 
Pasna  was  always  served  first.  He  drank  the  cordial,  took  a 
sip  of  water,  and  then  each  of  us  in  turn,  drinking  from  the 
same  glass.  At  intervals  of  about  five  minutes  the  same  re- 
freshment appeared,  and  was  served  at  least  ten  times  before 
dinner  was  announced. 

Presently  there  came  a  band  of  musicians — five  Egyptian 
boys  whom  tho  Pasha  had  brought  with  him  from  Cairo.  We 
13 


290  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

had  also  two  additions  to  the  company  of  guests :  Rufaa  Bey, 
an  intelligent  Egyptian,  who  was  educated  in  France,  and  had 
been  principal  of  a  native  college  in  Cairo,  under  Mohammed 
Ali,  and  Ali  Bey  Khasib,  the  late  Governor  of  Berber,  who 
had  been  deposed  on  account  of  alleged  mal-practices.  The 
latter  was  the  son  of  a  water  carrier  in  Cairo,  but  was  adopted 
by  the  widow  of  Ismail  Pasha,  who  gave  him  a  superior  educa- 
tion. Other  accounts  represented  him  to  be  the  illegitimate 
son  of  either  Ismail  or  Ibrahim  Pasha,  and  this  surmise  was 
probably  correct.  He  was  a  bold,  handsome  man  of  thirty, 
and  was  said  to  be  the  most  intelligent  of  all  the  officials  in 
Soudan. 

After  some  little  prelude,  the  musicians  commenced.  The 
instruments  were  a  zumarra,  or  reed  flute,  a  dulcimer,  the 
wires  of  which  were  struck  with  a  wooden  plectrum,  held  be- 
tween the  first  and  middle  fingers,  and  a  tamborine,  two  of  the 
boys  officiating  only  as  singers.  The  airs  were  Arabic  and 
Persian,  and  had  the  character  of  improvisations,  compared 
with  the  classic  music  of  Europe.  The  rhythm  was  perfect, 
and  the  parts  sustained  by  the  different  instruments  arranged 
with  considerable  skill.  The  Egyptian  officers  were  greatly 
moved  by  the  melodies,  which,  in  their  wild,  passionate,  bar- 
baric cadences,  had  a  singular  charm  for  my  ear.  The  songs 
were  principally  of  love,  but  of  a  higher  character  than  the 
common  songs  of  the  people.  The  Pasha  translated  a  brace 
for  us.  One  related  to  the  loves  of  a  boy  and  maiden,  the  for- 
mer of  whom  was  humble,  the  latter  the  daughter  of  a  Bey. 
They  saw  and  loved  each  other,  but  the  difference  in  their  sta- 
tions prevented  the  fulfilment  of  their  hopes.  One  day,  as  the 
girl  was  seated  at  her  window,  a  funeral  passed  through  the 


MUSIC    AND    DINNER.  201 

street  below.  She  asked  the  name  of  the  dead  person,  and 
they  answered  "  Leyl,"  the  name  of  her  beloved,  whom  the 
violence  of  his  passion  had  deprived  of  life.  Her  lamentations 
formed  the  theme  of  a  separate  song,  in  which  the  name  of 
Leyl  was  repeated  in  one  long,  continued  outcry  of  grief  and 
love.  The  second  song  was  of  a  widow  who  had  many  wooers, 
by  whom  she  was  so  beset,  that  she  finally  appointed  a  day  to 
give  them  her  decision.  The  same  day  her  son  died,  yet,  be- 
cause she  had  given  her  word,  she  mastered  her  grief  by  a  he- 
roic resolution,  arrayed  herself  in  her  finest  garments,  received 
her  suitors,  and  sang  to  her  lute  the  song  which  would  best 
entertain  them.  At  the  close  of  the  festival  she  announced 
her  loss  in  a  song,  and  concluded  by  refusing  all  their  offers 
At  last,  dinner  was  announced.  The  Pasha  led  the  way 
into  the  dining-room,  stopping  in  an  ante-chamber,  where  a 
group  of  slaves  were  ready  with  pitchers,  ewers  and  napkins, 
and  we  performed  the  customary  washing  of  hands.  The 
Pasha  then  took  his  seat  at  the  round  table,  and  pointed  out 
his  place  to  each  guest.  Dr.  Knoblecher  and  myself  sat  on 
his  right,  Dr.  Reitz  and  RufaJi  Bey  on  his  left,  and  Ali  Bey 
Khasib  opposite.  There  were  no  plates,  but  each  of  us  had  a 
silver  knife,  spoon  and  fork,  and  the  arrangement  was  so  far  in 
Frank  style  that  we  sat  upon  chairs  instead  of  the  floor.  The 
only  ceremony  observed  was,  that  the  Pasha  first  tasted  each 
dish  as  it  was  brought  upon  the  table,  after  which  the  rest  of  us 
followed.  We  all  ate  soup  from  the  same  tureen,  and  buried  our 
several  right  hands  to  the  knuckles  in  the  fat  flesh  of  the  sheep 
which  was  afterwards  set  before  us.  Claret  was  poured  out 
for  the  Franks  and  Rufaa  Bey  (whose  Moslem  principles  had 
been  damaged  by  ten  years  residence  in  Paris),  the  Pasha  and 


205  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

All  Bey  alone  abstaining.  There  were  twenty  courses  in  all 
and  the  cookery  was  excellent.  Besides  the  delicate  Turkish 
compounds  of  meat  and  vegetables,  delicious  fish  from  the 
White  Nile  and  fruits  from  the  Pasha's  garden,  we  had  blanc 
mange  and  several  varieties  of  French  patisserie.  At  the  close 
of  the  repast,  a  glass  bowl  containing  a  cool  drink  made  fror, 
dried  figs,  quinces  and  apricots,  was  placed  upon  the  table. 
The  best  possible  humor  prevailed,  and  I  enjoyed  the  dinner 
exceedingly,  the  more  so  because  I  had  not  expected  to  find 
such  a  high  degree  of  civilization  in  Souddn. 

We  had  afterwards  coffee  and  pipes  in  the  reception-room, 
and  about  ten  in  the  evening  took  leave  of  the  Pasha  and  walk- 
ed home,  preceded  by  attendants  carrying  large  glass  lanterns. 
After  accompanying  Dr.  Knoblecher  to  the  gate  of  the  Mission, 
Ali  Bey  Khasib  took  my  hand,  Rufaa  Bey  that  of  the  Con- 
sul, and  we  walked  to  the  residence  of  the  Bey,  who  detained  us 
an  hourly  the  narration  of  the  injuries  and  indignities  which 
had  been  inflicted  upon  him  by  order  of  Abbas  Pasha. 
The  latter,  on  coming  into  power,  took  especial  care  to  remove 
all  those  officers  who  had  been  favorites  of  Mohammed  AIL 
Many  of  them  were  men  of  high  attainments  and  pure  charac- 
ter, who  had  taken  an  active  part  in  carrying  out  the  old 
Pasha's  measures  of  reform.  Among  them  was  Rufaa  Bey, 
who,  with  several  of  his  associates,  was  sent  to  Khartoum,  os- 
tensibly for  the  purpose  of  founding  a  College  there,  but  in 
reality  as  a  banishment  from  Egypt.  He  had  been  there  a 
year  and  a  half  at  the  time  of  my  visit,  yet  no  order  had  been 
received  from  Cairo  relative  to  the  College.  This  state  of  in- 
action and  uncertainty,  combined  with  the  effect  of  the  climate, 
had  already  terminated  the  lives  of  two  of  his  fellow  -profes 


FRANKS    AND    COPTS.  293 

uors,  and  it  was  no  doubt  the  design  of  Abbas  Pasha  to  relievl 
himself  of  all  of  them  by  the  same  means.  When  I  heard  thi* 
Btory,  the  truth  of  which  Dr.  Reitz  confirmed,  I  could  readily 
account  for  the  bitterness  of  the  curses  which  the  venerable 
old  Bey  heaped  upon  the  head  of  his  tyrannical  ruler. 

The  Frank  population  of  Khartoum  was  not  large,  consist 
ing,  besides  Dr.  Reitz  and  the  priests  of  the  Catholic  Mission 
of  Dr.  Poney,  a  French  physician,  Dr.  Vierthaler,  a  German, 
and  an  Italian  apothecary,  the  two  former  of  whom  were  in  the 
Egyptian  service.  Dr.  Peney  had  been  ten  years  in  Soudan, 
and  knew  the  wnole  country,  from  the  mountains  of  Fazogl  to 
the  plains  of  Takka,  on  the  Atbara  River,  and  the  Shangalla 
forests  on  the  Abyssinian  frontier.  He  was  an  exceedingly 
intelligent  and  courteous  person,  and  gave  me  much  interesting 
information,  concerning  the  regions  he  had  visited  and  the 
habits  of  the  different  tribes  of  Soudan.  I  had  afterwardfl 
personal  opportunity  of  verifying  the  correctness  of  many  of 
his  statements.  There  were  a  few  Coptic  merchants  in  the 
place,  and  on  the  second  day  after  my  arrival  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  witnessing  the  New- Year  ceremonies  of  their 
Church,  which,  like  the  Greek,  still  retains  the  old  style.  The 
service,  which  was  very  similar  to  a  Catholic  mass,  was  chant* 
ed  in  musical  Arabic,  and  at  its  close  we  were  presented  with 
small  cakes  of  unleavened  flour,  stamped  with  a  cross.  At  the 
conclusion  of  the  ceremonies  coffee  was  given  to  us  in  an  outer 
court,  with  the  cordial  "  Haneean ! "  (a  wish  equivalent  to 
the  Latin  prosit,  or  "  may  it  benefit  you !  ") — to  which  we  re- 
plied :  "  Allah  Haneek  !  "  (may  God  give  you  benefit !) 

Dr.  Reitz  took  me  one  day  to  visit  the  celebrated  Sitteb 
(Lady)  Nasra,  the  daughter  of  the  last  King  of  Sennaar  and 


294  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

brother  of  the  present  Shekh  of  that  province.  She  is  a  woman 
of  almost  masculine  talent  and  energy,  and  may  be  said  to  gov- 
ern Sennaar  at  present.  All  the  Arab  shekhs,  as  well  as  the 
population  at  large,  have  the  greatest  respect  for  her,  and  in- 
variably ask  her  advice,  in  any  crisis  of  affairs.  Her  brother, 
Idris  Wed  Adlan,  notwithstanding  his  nominal  subjection  to 
Egypt,  still  possesses  absolute  sway  over  several  hundred  vil- 
lages, and  is  called  King  of  Kulle.  The  Lady  Nasra  retains 
the  title  of  Sultana,  on  account  of  her  descent  from  the  ancient 
royal  house  of  Sennaar.  She  has  a  palace  at  Soriba,  on  the 
Blue  Nile,  which,  according  to  Lepsius,  exhibits  a  degree  of 
wealth  and  state  very  rare  in  Soudan.  She  was  then  in 
Khartoum  on  a  visit,  with  her  husband,  Mohammed  Defalleh, 
the  son  of  a  former  Vizier  of  her  father,  King  Adlan. 

We  found  the  Lady  Nasra  at  home,  seated  on  a  carpet  in 
her  audience-hall,  her  husband  and  Shekh  Abd-el-Kader — the 
Shekh  of  Khartoum,  who  married  her  daughter  by  a  former 
husband — occupying  an  adjacent  carpet.  She  gave  the  Consul 
her  hand,  saluted  me,  as  a  stranger,  with  an  inclination  of  her 
head,  and  we  seated  ourselves  on  the  floOr  opposite  to  he,. 
She  was  about  forty-five  years  old,  but  appeared  younger,  and 
still  retained  the  traces  of  her  former  beauty.  Her  skin  was 
a  pale  bronze  color,  her  eyes  large  and  expressive,  and  her  face 
remarkable  for  its  intelligence  and  energy.  All  her  motions 
were  graceful  and  dignified,  and  under  more  favorable  circum- 
stances she  might  have  become  a  sort  of  Ethiopian  Zenobia, 
She  wore  a  single  robe  of  very  fine  white  muslin,  which  she 
sometimes  folded  so  as  nearly  to  conceal  her  features,  and 
sometimes  allowed  to  fill  to  her  waist,  revealing  the  somewhat 
over  ripe  charms  of  her  bosom.  A  heavy  ring  of  the  nativ« 


VISIT   TO    THE    PRINCESS    OF    8ENNAAR.  29t 

gold  of  Kasan  hung  from  her  nose,  and  others  adorned  her  fin- 
gers. Dr.  Reitz  explained  to  her  that  I  was  not  a  Frank,  bul 
came  from  a  great  country  on  the  other  side  of  the  world. 
She  spoke  of  the  visit  of  Dr.  Lepsius,  at  Soriba,  and  said  thai 
he  was  the  only  far- travelled  stranger  she  had  seen,  except 
myself.  I  took  occasion  to  say  that  I  had  frequently  heard  of 
her  in  my  native  land  ;  that  her  name  was  well-known  all  over 
the  world ;  and  that  the  principal  reason  of  my  visit  to  Sou- 
dan, was  the  hope  of  seeing  her.  She  was  not  in  the  least  flat- 
tered by  these  exaggerated  compliments,  but  received  them  as 
quietly  as  if  they  were  her  right.  She  was  a  born  queen,  and 
I  doubt  whether  any  thing  upon  the  earth  would  have  been 
able  to  shake  her  royal  indifference. 

Her  slaves  were  all  girls  of  twelve  to  fourteen  years  of  age, 
naked  except  the  rahad,  or  girdle  of  leathern  fringe  about  the 
loins.  They  had  evidently  been  chosen  for  their  beauty,  and 
two  of  them,  although  as  black  as  cast-iron  statues,  were  in- 
comparable for  the  symmetry  of  their  forms  and  the  grace  of 
their  movements.  They  brought  us  pipes  and  coffee,  and  when 
not  employed,  stood  in  a  row  at  the  bottom  of  the  room,  with 
their  hands  folded  upon  their  breasts.  Dinner  was  just  ready, 
and  we  were  iuvited  to  partake  of  it.  The  Sultana  had  al- 
ready dined  in  solitary  state,  so  her  husband,  Shekh  Abd-cl- 
Kader,  the  Consul  and  I,  seated  ourselves  cross-legged  on  the 
floor,  around  the  huge  bowl  containing  an  entire  sheep  stuffed 
with  rice.  We  buried  our  fingers  in  the  hot  and  smoking  flesh 
and  picked  the  choicest  pieces  from  the  ribs  ard  flank,  occa- 
sionally taking  a  handful  of  rice  from  the  interioi  The  only 
additional  dish  was  a  basket  of  raw  onions  and  radishes.  Bo- 
fore  each  of  us  stood  a  slave  with  a  napkin  and  a  large  glass 


296  JOURNEY    TO    C.ENTKAL    AFRICA. 

of  om  bilbil — the  "mother  of  nightingales."  After  drinking 
we  returned  the  glass  to  the  slave's  hand,  she  standing  all  the 
while  immovable  as  a  statue.  After  we  had  eaten  our  fill  of 
roast  mutton  and  raw  onions,  they  brought  a  dish  of  prepared 
dourra,  called  abri,  which  strongly  resembles  the  pinole  of 
Mexico.  The  grain  is  pounded  very  fine,  sifted,  mixed  with  a 
little  sugar  and  water,  and  made  into  thin,  dry  leaves,  as  whit* 
and  delicate  as  cambric.  It  is  considered  very  nourishing,  es- 
pecially on  a  journey,  for  which  purpose  it  is  used  by  the  rich 
ehekhs  of  Soudan. 

As  we  took  our  leave,  the  Sultana,  observing  that  our  cane 
batons,  which  we  had  just  purchased  in  the  bazaar,  were  of 
very  indifferent  quality,  ordered  two  others  to  be  brought,  of  a 
fine  yellow  wood,  resembling  box,  which  is  found  in  the  moun- 
tains on  the  Abyssinian  frontier,  and  gave  them  to  us. 


BECBNT  EXPLORATION  OF  ROUDAH.          297 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

THE      COUNTRIES      OF      SOUDAN. 

ts*?t nt  Explorations  of  Soudfln— Limit  of  the  Tropical  Rains — The  Conqnest  of  Ethio- 
pia—Countries Tributary  to  Egypt— The  District  of  Takka— Expedition  of  Mouse, 
Bey— The  Atbara  Kiver— The  Abyssinian  Frontier— Christian  Ruins  of  Abou- Ha- 
rass— The  Kingdom  of  Sennaar — Kordofan — Dar-Fur — The  Princess  of  Dar-Fur  in 
Khartoum— Her  Visit  to  Dr.  Reitz— Tbo  Unknown  Countries  of  Central  Africa. 

UNTIL  within  a  recent  period,  but  little  has  been  known  of  the 
geography  and  topography  of  the  eastern  portion  of  Central 
Africa.  Few  English  travellers  have  made  these  regions  the 
subject  of  their  investigation,  their  attention  having  been  prin 
cipally  directed  towards  the  countries  on  the  western  coast. 
The  Niger,  in  fact,  has  been  for  them  a  more  interesting  prob 
leui  than  the  Nile.  The  German  travellers  Riippell  and  Rus 
segger,  however,  by  their  explorations  within  the  last  twenty- 
five  years,  have  made  important  contributions  to  our  knowledge 
of  Eastern  Soudan,  while  D'Arnaud,  Werne,  and  more  than 
ail,  Dr.  Knoblecher,  have  carried  our  vision  far  into  the  heart 
of  the  mysterious  regions  beyond.  Still,  the  results  of  these 
explorations  are  far  from  being  generally  known,  or  even  rep 
resented  upon  our  maps.  Geographical  charts  are  still  issued, 
in  which  the  conjectured  Mountains  of  the  Moon  continue  to 
13" 


298  JOURNSY  TO  CENTRAL  AFRICA. 

stretch  their  ridges  across  the  middle  of  Africa,  in  latitudes 
where  the  latest  travellers  find  a  plain  as  level  as  the  sea.  A 
few  words,  therefore,  concerning  the  character  and  relative  po 
sition  of  the  different  countries  of  which  I  have  occasion  to 
speak,  may  make  these  sketches  of  African  life  and  landscapes 
more  intelligible  to  many  readers. 

As  far  as  southern  Nubia,  with  the  exception  of  the  Oases 
in  the  Libyan  Desert,  the  Nile  is  the  only  agent  of  productive- 
ness. Beyond  the  narrow  limits  »f  his  bounteous  valley,  there 
is  little  except  red  sand  and  naked  rock,  from  the  Red  Sea  to 
the  Atlantic.  On  reaching  lat.  19°,  however,  a  change  takes 
place  in  the  desert  landscapes.  Here  the  tropical  rains,  which 
are  unknown  in  Egypt  and  Northern  Nubia,  fall  every  sum- 
mer, though  in  diminished  quantity.  The  dry,  gravelly  plains, 
nevertheless,  exhibit  a  scattering  growth  of  grass  and  thorny 
shrubs,  and  springs  are  frequently  found  among  the  mountain 
rangea  As  we  proceed  southward,  the  vegetation  increases 
in  quantity ;  the  grass  no  longer  keeps  the  level  of  the  plain, 
but  climbs  the  mountain-sides,  and  before  reaching  Khartoum, 
in  lat.  15°  40'  north,  we  have  passed  the  limit  of  the  Desert, 
The  wide  plains  stretching  thence  eastward  to  the  Atbara,  and 
westward  beyond  Kordofan,  are  savannas  of  rank  grass,  cross- 
ed here  and  there  by  belts  of  the  thorny  mimosa,  and  differing 
little  in  aspect  from  the  plains  of  California  during  the  dry  sea- 
son. The  Arabs  who  inhabit  them  are  herdsmen,  and  own 
vast  flocks  of  camels  and  sheep.  The  Nile  here  is  np  longer 
the  sole  river,  and  losos  his  title  of  "  The  Sea,"  which  he  owns 
in  Egypt.  The  Atbara,  which  flows  down  to  him  from  the 
Abyssinian  Alps,  has  many  tributaries  of  its  own ;  the  Blue 
Nile,  between  Khartoum  and  Senuaar  receives  the  large 


THE    CONQUEST    OF    ETHIOPIA.  299 

streams  of  the  Rahad  and  the  Deader;  and  the  White  Nile^ 
though  flowing  for  the  greater  part  of  his  known  course 
through  an  immense  plain,  boasts  two  important  affluents — 
the  Sobat  and  the  Bahr  el-Ghazal.  The  soil,  climate,  produc 
tioiis  and  character  of  the  scenery  of  this  region  are  therefore 
very  different  from  Egypt. 

Before  the  conquest  of  Souddn  by  Mohammed  Ali,  little 
was  known  of  the  country  between  the  Ethiopian  Nile  and  the 
Bed  Sea,  or  of  Central  Africa*  south  of  the  latitude  of  Kordo- 
fan  and  Sennaar.  The  White  Nile,  it  is  true,  was  known  to 
exist,  but  was  considered  as  a  tributary  stream.  It  was  ex- 
tremely difficult  and  dangerous  to  proceed  beyond  Nubia,  and 
then  only  in  company  with  the  yearly  caravans  which  passed 
between  Assouan  and  Sennaar.  Ibrahim  Pasha,  Ismail  Pasha, 
and  Mohammed  Bey  Defterdar,  between'  the  years  1820  and 
1825,  gradually  subjugated  and  attached  to  the  rule  of  Egypt 
the  countries  of  Berber,  Shendy  and  Sennaar,  as  far  as  the 
mountains  of  Fazogl,  in  lat.  11°,  on  the  south-western  frontier 
of  Abyssinia,  the  wild  domains  of  the  Shukorees,  the  Bisha- 
rees,  the  Hallengas  and  Hadendoas,  extending  to  the  Red  Sea, 
and  embracing  the  seaport  of  Sowakin,  and  the  kingdom  of 
•  Kordofan,  west  of  the  Nile,  and  bounded  by  the  large  and 
powerful  negro  kingdom  of  Dar-Fur.  The  Egyptian  posses- 
sions in  Soudan  are  nearly  as  extensive  as  all  Egypt,  Nubia 
not  included,  and  might  become  even  richer  and  more  flourish- 
Ing  under  a  just  and  liberal  policy  of  government.  The  plains 
on  both  sides  of  the  Nile  might  be  irrigated  to  a  much  greater 
extent  than  in  Egypt,  and  many  vast  tracts  of  territory  given 
up  to  the  nomadic  tribes,  could  readily  be  reclaimed  from  the 
wilderness.  The  native  inhabitants  are  infinitely  more  stupid 


800  JOURNET    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

and  degraded  than  the  Fellahs  of  Egypt,  but  that  they  are  ca 
pable  of  great  improvement  is  shown  by  the  success  attending 
the  efforts  of  the  Catholic  priests  in  Khartoum,  in  educating 
children.  The  terrible  climate  of  Soudan  will  always  be  a 
drawback  to  its  physical  prosperity,  yet  even  this  would  be 
mitigated,  in  some  measure,  were  the  soil  under  cultivation. 

As  I  followed  the  course  of  the  Nile,  from  the  northern 
limit  of  the  tropical  rains  to  Khartoum,  my  narrative  will  Lave 
given  some  idea  of  the  country  along  his  banks.  The  terri- 
tory to  the  east,  towards  and  beyond  the  Atbara,  is  still  in  a 
great  measure  unexplored.  Burckhardt  was  the  first  Euro 
pean  who  visited  it,  but  his  route  lay  among  the  mountain- 
ranges  near  and  parallel  to  the  coast  of  the  Red  Sea.  The 
long  chain  of  Djebel  Langay,  which  he  crossed,  is  three  to  five 
thousand  feet  in  height,  and,  like  the  mountain-spine  of  the 
island  of  Ceylon,  never  has  the  same  season  on  both  sides  at 
once.  When  it  rains  on  the  eastern  slopes,  the  western  are 
dry,  and  the  contrary.  There  is  another  and  still  higher  chain 
near  the  coast,  but  the  greater  part  of  this  region  consists  of 
vast  plains,  tenanted  by  the  Arab  herdsmen,  and  rising  gradu- 
ally towards  the  south  into  the  first  terraces  of  the  table-land 
of  Abyssinia.  The  land  of  the  Shukorees  and  the  Hallengas, 
lying  on  both  sides  of  the  Atbara,  is  called  Belad  el  Takka. 
Dr.  Reitz  visited  it  during  the  summer  of  1851,  in  company 
with  the  military  expedition  under  Moussa  Bey,  and  travelled 
for  three  or  four  weeks  through  regions  where  no  European 
had  been  before  him. 

Leaving  the  town  of  Shendy,  he  travelled  eastward  foi 
nine  days  over  unbroken  plains  of  grass,  abounding  with  ga- 
Belles  and  hyenas,  to  a  village  called  Goz  Radjeb,  on  the  At- 


DR.    REITZ'b    JOURNEY    TO    TAKKA.  301 

bara  River.  This  belongs  to  the  Shukorees,  against  whom  the 
expedition  was  in  part  directed  He  then  crossed  the  river 
and  travelled  for  two  or  three  weeks  through  a  broken  moun 
tain  country,  inhabited  by  the  wandering  races  of  the  Hallen 
ges  and  Hadendoas.  The  mountains,  which  vrere  from  two  tc 
three  thousand  feet  in  height,  were  crested  with  walls  of  naked 
porphyry  rock,  but  their  lower  slopes  were  covered  with  grass 

and  bushes,  and  peopled  by  myriads  of  apes.      Between  the 

% 
ranges  were  many  broad  and  beautiful  valleys,  some  of  which 

were  inhabited.  Here  the  vegetable  and  animal  world  was  far 
richer  than  on  the  Nile.  The  Consul  was  obliged  to  follow 
the  movements  of  the  expedition,  and  therefore  could  not  trace 
out  any  regular  plan  of  exploration.  After  seeing  just  enougn 
to  whet  his  curiosity  to  penetrate  further,  Moussa  Bey  return- 
ed to  Goz  Radjeb.  His  route  then  followed  the  course  of  the 
Atbara,  for  a  distance  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles,  to  the 
town  of  Sofie,  on  the  Abyssinian  frontier.  The  river,  which  ie 
a  clear  and  beautiful  stream,  has  a  narrow  border  of  trees  and 
underwood,  and  flows  in  a  winding  course  through  a  region  of 
low,  grassy  hills.  By  using  the  water  for  irrigation,  the  coun- 
try, which  is  now  entirely  uncultivated,  might  be  made  evry 
productive.  The  Shukorees  possess  immense  herds  of  camels, 
and  a  hegin,  or  trained  dromedary,  which  the  Consul  purchas 
ed  from  them,  was  one  of  the  strongest  and  fleetest  which  I 
saw  in  Africa. 

Near  Sofie  the  savannas  of  grass  give  place  to  dense  tropi- 
cal forests,  with  a  rank  undergrowth  which  is  often  impenetr* 
We.  Here,  in  addition  to  the  lion  and  leopard,  which  are 
common  to  all  Soudan,  the  expedition  saw  large  herds  of  the 
elephant  and  rhinoceros.  The  wo  j>ds  were  filled  with  birds  of 


302  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

brilliant  plumage,  and  the  vegetable  world  was  rich  and  gor- 
geous beyond  description.  The  Consul  remained  but  a  short 
time  here,  and  then  travelled  westward  to  the  town  of  Abou 
Harass  on  the  Blue  Nile,  visiting  on  the  way  a  curious  isolated 
mountain,  called  Djebel  Attesh.  Near  Abou-Harass  are  the 
ruins  of  an  ancient  Christian  town,  probably  dating  from  the 
fourth  or  fifth  century,  about  which  time  Christianity,  pre- 
viously planted  in  Abyssinia,  began  to  advance  northward  to- 
wards Nubia.  The  Consul  obtained  from  the  Governor  of 
Abou-Harass  three  iron  crosses  of  a  peculiar  form,  a  number 
of  beads  which  had  belonged  to  a  rosary,  and  a  piece  of  in- 
cense— all  of  which  were  found  in  removing  the  bricks  used  to 
build  the  Pasha's  palace  and  other  edifices  in  Khartoum.  The 
room  which  I  occupied  during  my  stay  in  Khartoum  was  paved 
with  the  same  bricks.  These  remains  are  in  curious  contrast 
with  the  pyramids  of  Meroe  and  the  temples  of  Mesowurat. 
The  Christian  and  Egyptian  Faiths,  advancing  towards  each 
other,  almost  met  on  these  far  fields. 

The  former  kingdom  of  Sennaar  included  the  country  be- 
tween the  two  Niles — except  the  territory  of  the  Shillooks — 
as  far  south  as  lat.  12°.  It  is  bounded  by  Abyssinia  on  the 
east,  and  by  the  mountains  of  the  savage  Galla  tribes,  on  the 
south.  The  Djezeerek  (Island)  el  Hoye,  as  the  country  be- 
tween the  rivers  is  called,  is  for  the  most  part  a  plain  of  grass. 
Towards  the  south,  there  are  some  low  ranges  of  hills,  followed 
by  other  plains,  which  extend  to  the  unknown  mountain  region, 
and  abound  with  elephants  and  lions.  The  town  of  Sennaar, 
once  the  capital  of  this  region  and  the  residence  of  its  Meks  or 
Kings,  is  now  of  little  importance.  It  was  described  to  me  at 
a  collection  of  mud  huts,  resembling  Shendy.  The  Egyptian 


KORDOFAN.  309 

rule  extends  ten  days'  journey  further,  to  Fazogl,  where  th« 
fine  timber  in  the  mountains  and  the  gold-bearing  sands  of 
Kasan  have  given  rise  to  the  establishment  of  a  military  post 
Sennaar,  as  well  as  Kordofan,  Berber  and  Dongola,  is  govern 
ed  by  a  Bey,  appointed  by  the  Pasha  of  Soudan.  It  is  only 
two  weeks'  journey  thence  to  Gondar,  the  capital  of  Amhara, 
the  principal  Abyssinian  kingdom.  I  was  told  that  it  is  no* 
difficult  for  merchants  to  visit  the  latter  place,  but  that  any 
one  suspected  of  being  a  person  of  consequence  is  detained 
there  and  not  allowed  to  leave  again.  I  had  a  strong  curiosity 
to  see  something  of  Abyssinia,  and  had  I  been  quite  sure  that 
I  should  not  be  taken  for  a  person  of  consequence,  might  have 
made  the  attempt  to  reach  Gondar. 

Kordofan  lies  west  of  the  White  Nile,  and  consists  entire- 
ly of  great  plains  of  grass  and  thorns,  except  in  the  southern 
part,  where  there  is  a  mountain  range  called  Djebel  Dyer,  in- 
habited by  emigrants  from  Dongola.  It  is  not  more  than  two 
hundred  miles  in  breadth,  from  east  to  west.  Its  capital. 
Obeid,  lies  in  lat.  13°  12'  north,  and  is  a  mere  collection  of 
mud  huts.  Mr.  Peterick,  the  English  Vice-Consul  for  Sou- 
dan, to  whom  I  had  letters  from  Mr.  Murray,  the  English 
Consul-General  in  Cairo,  had  taken  up  his  residence  in  Obeid. 
The  soil  of  Kordofan  is  sterile,  and  the  water  is  considered 
very  unhealthy  for  foreigners.  Capt.  Peel  gave  me  such  a  de- 
scription of  its  endless  thickets  of  thorns,  its  miserable  popula- 
tion and  its  devastating  fevers,  that  I  lost  all  desire  to  visit  it 
The  Governor,  Abd-el-Kader  Bey,  was  in  Khartoum,  and  Dr. 
Reitz  intended  making  a  journey  through  the  country  in  com- 
pany with  him.  There  is  a  caravan  route  of  twenty  days  between 
Obeid  and  Dongola,  through  a  wild  region  called  the  Beyooda 


304  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

or  Bedjuda.  A  few  degrees  further  north,  it  would  be  a  bar 
ren  desert,  but  here  it  is  an  alternation  of  wadys,  or  valleys, 
with  ranges  of  porphyry  mountains,  affording  water,  trees,  and 
sufficient  grass  for  the  herds  of  the  wandering  Arabs.  It  is 
inhabited  by  two  tribes — the  Kababiuh  and  the  Howoweet, 
who  differ  strongly  from  the  Arabs  east  of  the  Nile,  in  their 
appearance  and  habits.  The  latter,  by  their  superior  intelli- 
gence and  their  remarkable  personal  beauty,  still  attest  their 
descent  from  the  tribes  of  Hedjaz  and  Yemen.  The  tribes  in 
the  western  desert  are  more  allied  to  the  Tibboos,  and  other 
tenants  of  the  Great  Zahara.  The  caravans  on  this  road  are 
exposed  to  the  danger  of  attacks  from  the  negroes  of  Dar-Fur, 
who  frequently  waylay  small  parties,  murder  the  individuals 
and  carry  off  the  camels  and  goods. 

The  great  kingdom  of  Dar-Fur  offers  a  rich  field  for  some 
future  explorer.  The  extensive  regions  it  incloses  are  suppos- 
ed to  furnish  the  key  to  the  system  of  rivers  and  mountain- 
chains  of  Central  Africa.  Through  the  fear  and  jealousy  of 
its  rulers,  no  stranger  has  been  allowed  to  pass  its  borders, 
since  the  visit  of  Mr.  Browne,  half  a  century  ago.  Of  late, 
however,  the  relations  between  the  Egyptian  rulers  in  Soudan 
and  the  Sultan  of  Dar-Fur  have  been  quite  amicable,  and  if 
nothing  occurs  to  dkturb  this  harmony  there  is  some  hope  thai 
the  ban  will  be  removed.  Lattif  Pasha  informed  me  that  he 
had  written  to  the  Sultan  on  behalf  of  Capt.  Peel,  who  wished 
to  pass  through  Dar-Fur  and  reach  Boruou.  He  had  at  that 
time  received  no  answer,  but  it  had  been  intimated,  unofficial- 
ly, that  the  Sultan  would  reply,  giving  Capt.  Peel  permission 
to  enter  the  country  and  travel  in  it,  but  not  to  pass  beyond  it 
There  is  an  almost  continual  war  between  the  Sultans  of  Bur- 


THE    PRINCESS    OF    DAR-FDR.  305 

DOU  and  Dar-Fiir,  and  the  Pasha  was  of  the  opinion  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  traverse  Africa  from  east  to  west,  in 
the  line  of  those  states. 

A  circumstance  occurred  lately,  which  may  help  to  open 
Dar-Fur  to  Europeans.  The  Sitteh  (Lady)  Sowakin,  the  aunt 
of  Sultan  Adah,  the  present  monarch  of  that  kingdom,  is  a 
zealous  Moslem,  and  lately  determined  to  make  a  pilgrimage 
to  the  grave  of  the  Prophet.  She  arrived  in  Khartoum  in  Au- 
gust, 1851,  attended  by  a  large  retinue  of  officers,  attendants 
and  slaves,  and  after  remaining  a  few  days  descended  the  Nile 
to  El  Mekheyref,  crossed  the  Desert  to  Sowakin,  on  the  Red 
Sea,  and  sailed  thence  for  Djidda,  the  port  of  Mecca.  During 
her  stay  Lattif  Pasha  was  exceedingly  courteous  to  her,  intro- 
ducing her  to  his  wives,  bestowing  upon  her  handsome  presents, 
and  furnishing  her  with  boats  and  camels  for  her  journey.  Dr. 
Reitz  availed  himself  of  the  occasion  to  make  the  people  of 
Dar-Fur  better  acquainted  with  Europeans.  All  the  Frank 
residents  assembled  at  his  house,  in  Christian  costume,  and 
proceeded  to  the  residence  of  the  Lady  Sowakin.  They  found 
her  sitting  in  state,  with  two  black  slaves  before  her  on  their 
hands  and  knees,  motionless  as  sphinxes.  On  each  side  stood 
her  officers  and  interpreters.  She  was  veiled,  as  well  as  her 
female  attendants,  and  all  exhibited  the  greatest  surprise  and 
curiosity  at  the  appearance  of  the  Franks.  The  gifts  they  laid 
before  her — silks,  fine  soaps,  cosmetics,  bon-bons,  &c. — she  ex- 
amined with  childish  delight,  and  when  the  Consul  informed 
her  that  the  only  object  of  the  Europeans  in  wishing  to  enter 
Dar-Fnr  was  to  exchange  such  objects  as  these  for  gum  and 
elephants'  teeth,  she  promised  to  persuadf  Sultan  Adah  to  open 
hie  kingdom  to  them. 


806  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

The  next  day  her  principal  officers  visited  the  Consul's 
Louse,  and  spent  a  long  time  examining  its  various  wonders. 
The  pictures,  books  and  furniture  filled  them  with  astonish- 
ment, and  they  went  from  one  object  to  another,  like  children, 
uttering  exclamations  of  surprise  and  delight.  What  most 
startled  them  was  a  box  of  lucifer  matches,  which  was  entirely 
beyond  their  comprehension.  They  regarded  the  match  with 
superstitious  awe,  and  seemed  to  consider  that  the  fire  was  pro- 
duced by  some  kind  of  magic.  Their  relation  of  what  they 
saw  so  excited  the  curiosity  of  the  Lady  Sowakin,  that  she 
came  on  the  following  day,  with  her  women.  She  was  no  less 
astonished  than  her  attendants  had  been,  but  was  most  attract 
ed  by  the  Consul's  large  mirror.  She  and  her  women  spent 
half  an  hour  before  it,  making  gestures,  and  unable  to  compre- 
hend how  they  were  mimicked  by  the  reflected  figures.  As 
she  was  unacquainted  with  its  properties,  she  threw  back  her 
veil  to  see  whether  the  image  would  show  her  face.  The  Con- 
sul was  standing  behind  her,  and  thus  caught  sight  of  her  fea- 
tures ;  she  was  black,  with  a  strongly  marked  but  not  unpleas- 
ant countenance,  and  about  forty-five  years  of  age.  He  had  a 
breakfast  prepared  for  the  ladies,  but  on  reaching  the  room  the 
attendants  all  retired,  and  he  was  informed  that  the  women  of 
rank  in  Dar-Fur  never  eat  in  the  presence  of  the  men.  After 
they  had  finished  the  repast,  he  observed  that  they  had  not 
only  partaken  heartily  of  the  various  European  dishes,  but  had 
taken  with  them  what  they  could  not  eat,  so  that  the  table  ex 
hibited  nothing  but  empty  dishes.  When  they  left,  the  Lady 
reiterated  her  promise,  and  added  that  if  the  Consul  wo  aid 
visit  Dar-Fur,  the  Sultan  would  certainly  present  him  wit! 
many  camel-loads  of  elephants'  teeth,  in  consideration  of  his 
courtesy  to  her. 


UNKNOWN    COUNTRIES.  807 

To  the  westward  of  Dar-Fur,  and  between  that  cjuntry  and 
Bornou,  lies  the  large  kingdom  of  Waday,  which  has  never  been 
visited  by  a  European.  I  learned  from  some  Kordofan  mer- 
chants, who  had  visited  the  frontiers  of  Dar-Fur  on  their  trad- 
ing expeditious,  that  Sultan  Adah  had  conquered  a  great  part 
of  Waday,  and  would  probably  soon  become  involved  in  war 
tfith  the  Sultan  of  Bornou.  It  is  said  that  there  is  in  the 
country  of  Waday  a  lake  called  Fittre,  which  is  a  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  in  length,  and  receives  several  rivers.  At  the 
south-western  extremity  of  Dar-Fur,  in  lat.  6°  N.  there  is  a 
small  country,  called  Fertit.  I  often  heard  it  mentioned  by 
the  Ethiopian  traders,  one  of  whom  showed  me  a  snuff-box, 
which  he  had  bought  of  a  native  of  the  country.  It  was  made 
from  the  hard  shell  of  a  fruit  about  the  size  of  an  orange,  with 
a  stopper  roughly  wrought  of  silver.  Almost  the  entire  region 
south  of  lat.  10°  N.  and  lying  between  the  White  Nile  and 
the  Gulf  of  Guinea  is  unknown  ground,  and  presents  a  rich 
field  for  future  explorers. 

The  difficulties  and  dangers  which  have  hitherto  attended 
the  path  of  African  discovery,  are  rapidly  diminishing,  and  the 
time  is  not  far  distant  when  every  mystery,  hidden  in  the  heart 
of  that  wonderful  Continent,  will  be  made  clear.  Where  a 
traveller  has  once  penetrated,  he  smoothes  the  way  for  those 
who  follow,  and  that  superior  intelligence  which  renders  the 
brute  creation  unable  to  bear  the  gaze  of  a  human  eye,  is  the 
defence  of  the  civilized  man  against  the  barbarian.  Bruce, 
journeying  from  Abyssinia  to  Egypt,  in  the  year  1772,  was  beset 
by  continual  dangers,  and  even  Burckhardt,  in  1814,  though 
successfully  disguised  as  a  Mussulman  shekh,  or  saint,  was  oblig- 
ed to  keep  his  journal  by  stealth.  At  present,  however,  a 


808  JOURNEY    10    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Frank  may  travel  in  comparative  safety,  from  Cairo  to  the 
borders  of  Dar-Fur  and  Abyssinia,  while  the  White  Nile  and 
its  tributaries  afford  avenues  to  the  yery  heart  of  the  unexplor- 
ed regions  beyond.  The  climate  is  the  greatest  obstacle  in  the 
way  of  discovery,  and  the  traveller  whose  temperament  is  best 
adapted  for  the  heats  of  the  inter-tropical  zone,  possesses  the 
beat  chance  of  success 


EXCURSION'S    AROtXn    KHARTOUM.  309 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

EXCURSIONS       AND       P R E P A K A T I O N S . 

Kicnrslons  around  Khartoum — A  Race  Into  the  Desert — Euphorbia  Forest — The 
Banks  of  the  Blue  Nile— A  Saint's  Grave— The  Confluence  of  the  Two  Niles— Mag- 
nitude of  the  Nile — Comparative  8izeof  the  Rivera — Their  Names— Desire  to  pene- 
trate further  into  Africa— Attractions  of  the  White  Nile— Engage  the  Boat  John 
Lett  yard— Former  Restrictions  against  exploring  the  River— Visit  to  the  Pasha- 
Despotic  Hospitality— Achmet's  Misgivings — We  set  sail 

MY  morning  rides  with  Dr.  Reitz,  around  Khartoum,  grad- 
ually extended  themselves  into  the  neighboring  country,  with- 
in the  limits  which  a  fast  dromedary  could  reach  in  two  hours' 
travel  In  this  way  I  became  familiar  with  the  scenery  along 
the  banks  of  both  Niles,  and  the  broad  arid  plains  between 
them.  As  I  rarely  appeared  in  public  except  in  the  Consul's 
company,  and  attended  with  all  the  state  which  his  household 
eould  command,  I  was  looked  upon  by  the  inhabitants  as  & 
foreign  prince  of  distinguished  rank.  The  Pasha's  soldiers 
duly  presented  arms,  and  the  people  whom  I  met  in  the  streets 
stopped  and  saluted  me  profoundly,  as  I  passed.  The  Consul 
had  succeeded  in  making  a  strong  impression  of  his  own  powei 
%nd  importance,  and  this  was  reflected  upon  his  guest.  Una 


310  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

morning,  as  we  were  riding  towards  the  palace,  a  man  cried 
nut :  "  May  God  prolong  your  days,  0  Consul !  and  the  days 
of  the  strange  lord, — for  you  make  a  grand  show  with  your 
horses,  every  day ! " 

There  was  one  of  our  rides  which  I  never  call  to  mind  with- 
out a  leap  of  the  heart.  The  noble  red  stallion  which  I  usual- 
ly mounted  had  not  forgotten  the  plains  of  Dar-Ffir,  where  ho 
was  bred,  and  whenever  we  came  upon  the  boundless  level  ex- 
tending southward  from  the  town,  his  wild  blood  was  aroused. 
He  pricked  up  his  ears,  neighed  as  grandly  as  the  war-horse 
of  Job,  champed  furiously  against  the  restraining  bit,  and  ever 
and  anon  cast  a  glance  of  his  large,  brilliant  eye  backward  at 
me,  half  in  wonder,  half  in  scorn,  that  I  did  not  feel  the  same 
desire.  The  truth  is,  I  was  tingling  from  head  to  foot  with 
equal  excitement,  but  Dr.  Reitz  was  a  thorough  Englishman  in 
his  passion  for  trotting,  and  was  vexed  whenever  I  rode  at  any 
other  pace.  Once,  however,  the  sky  was  so  blue,  the  morning 
air  so  cool  and  fresh,  and  the  blood  so  lively  in  my  veins,  that 
[  answered  the  fierce  questioning  of  Sultan's  eye  with  an  in- 
voluntary shout,  pressed  my  knees  against  his  sides  and  gave 
him  the  rein.  0  Mercury,  what  a  rush  followed  !  We  cut 
the  air  like  the  whizzing  shaft  from  a  Saracen  crossbow ;  Sul- 
tan stretched  out  until  his  powerful  neck  was  almost  on  a  level 
with  his  back,  and  the  glorious  rhythm  of  his  hoofs  was  accom- 
panied by  so  little  sense  of  effort,  that  it  seemed  but  the  throb- 
bing of  his  heart,  keeping  time  with  my  own.  His  course  was 
as  straight  as  a  sunbeam,  swerving  not  a  hair's-breadth  to  the 
right  or  left,  but  forward,  forward  into  the  freedom  of  the 
Desert.  Neck  and  neck  with  him  careered  the  Consul's  milk- 
white  stallion,  and  I  was  so  lost  in  the  divine  excitement  of 


A    SACK    INTO    THE    DESERT.  811 

our  speed,  that  an  hour  had  passed  before  I  was  cooi  enough 
to  notice  wl  .ere  we  were  going.  The  Consul  finally  called  out 
to  me  to  stop,  and  I  complied,  sharing  the  savage  resistance  of 
Sultan,  who  neighed  and  plunged  with  greater  ardor  than  at 
the  start.  The  minarets  of  Khartoum  had  long  since  disap- 
peared ;  we  were  in  the  centre  of  a  desolate,  sandy  plain,  bro- 
ken here  and  there  by  clumps  of  stunted  mimosas — a  dreary 
landscape,  but  glorified  by  the  sunshine  and  the  delicious  air. 
We  rode  several  miles  on  the  return  track,  before  we  met  the 
pursuing  attendants,  who  had  urged  their  dromedaries  into  a 
gallop,  and  were  sailing  after  us  like  a  flock  of  ostriches. 

A  few  days  after  my  arrival,  we  had  the  dromedaries  sad- 
dled and  rode  to  KerefF,  a  village  on  the  Blue  Nile,  about  two 
leagues  distant.  The  path  was  over  a  wide  plain,  covered  with 
dry  grass,  and  resembling  an  Illinois  prairie  after  a  long 
drought.  In  the  rainy  season  it  is  green  and  luxuriant  with 
grass  and  a  multitude  of  flowers.  The  only  trees  were  the 
savage  white  thorn  of  the  Desert,  until  we  approached  the 
river,  where  we  found  forests  of  the  large  euphorbia,  which  I 
had  first  noticed  as  a  shrub  in  Upper  Egypt.  It  here  became 
a  tree,  upwards  of  twenty  feet  in  height.  The  branches  bent 
over  my  head,  as  I  rode  through  on  the  Consul's  tallest  drom- 
edary. The  trees  were  all  in  blossom,  and  gave  out  a  subtle, 
sickening  odor.  The  flowers  appear  in  whorls  around  the  stem, 
at  the  base  of  the  leaves ;  the  corolla  is  entire,  but  divided 
into  five  points,  white  in  the  centre,  with  a  purple  stain  at  the 
extremity.  The  juice  of  this  plant  is  viscid  and  milky,  and 
the  Arabs  informed  me  that  if  a  single  drop  of  it  gets  into  tha 
tye  it  will  produce  instant  blindness. 

Beyond  these  thickets  extended  patches  of  wheat  and  ooi 


312  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

ton  to  the  banks  of  the  Blue  Nile,  where  the  hunip-back«4 
oxen  of  Sennaar  were  lazily  turning  the  creaking  wheels  of  the 
sakies.  The  river  had  here  a  breadth  of  more  than  half  a 
mile,  and  shone  blue  and  brilliant  in  the  morning  sun.  Before 
reaching  Kereff,  we  visited  five  villages,  all  built  of  mats  and 
clay.  The  inhabitants  were  warming  themselves  on  the  sunny 
side  of  the  huts,  where  they  still  shivered  in  the  cold  north- 
wind.  At  Kereff,  two  men  brought  a  large  gourd,  filled  with 
sour  milk,  which  was  very  cool  and  refreshing.  The  principal 
wealth  of  the  people  consists  in  their  large  flocks  of  sheep  and 
goats.  They  cultivate  barely  sufficient  wheat  and  dourra  to 
supply  them  with  a  few  cakes  of  coarse  bread,  and  their  favor- 
ite beverage  of  om  bilbil. 

On  our  return  we  passed  the  grave  of  a  native  saint,  which 
was  decorated  with  rows  of  pebbles  and  a  multitude  of  white 
pennons,  fluttering  from  the  tops  of  poles  stuck  in  the  ground. 
Several  women  were  seated  at  the  head,  apparently  paying  their 
devotions  to  the  ghost  of  the  holy  man.  The  older  ones  were 
unveiled  and  ugly,  but  there  was  a  damsel  of  about  eighteen, 
who  threw  part  of  her  cotton  mantle  over  her  face,  yet  allow- 
ed us  to  see  that  she  was  quite  handsome.  She  had  a  pale 
yellow  complexion,  showing  her  Abyssinian  descent,  large,  al- 
mond-shaped eyes,  and  straight  black  hair  which  diffused  an 
odor  of  rancid  butter.  I  found  it  most  agreeable  to  admire 
her  beauty  from  the  windward  side.  An  old  beggar-woman, 
whose  gray  hair,  skinny  face  and  bleared  eyes,  flashing  from 
the  bottom  of  deep  sockets,  made  her  a  fitting  picture  of  a 
Lapland  witch,  came  up  and  touched  our  hands,  which  she 
oould  barely  reach  as  we  sat  on  the  dromedaries,  which  saved 
as  the  horror  of  having  her  kiss  them.  Wo  gave  her  a  back 


I  UK  JUNCTION    Ol     THE    TWO    NILX8.  813 

jneesh,  whnh  she  took  as  if  it  had  been  her  right.  After  in- 
voking the  name  of  Allah  many  times,  she  went  tt  the  grave 
and  brought  each  of  us  a  handful  of  dirt,  which  we  carefully 
put  into  our  pockets,  but  as  carefully  emptied  out  again  aftci 
we  had  reached  home. 

The  next  morning  I  rode  with  the  Consul  to  the  junction 
of  the  two  Niles,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  to  the  west  of  Khar- 
toum. The  land  all  around  is  low,  and  the*two  rivers  meet  at 
right  angles,  but  do  not  mingle  their  waters  till  they  have  roll- 
ed eight  or  ten  miles  in  their  common  bed.  The  White  Nile 
is  a  light-brown,  muddy  color,  the  Blue  Nile  a  dark  bluish 
green.  Both  rivers  are  nearly  of  equal  breadth  at  the  point 
of  confluence,  but  the  current  of  the  latter  is  much  the  stronger. 
There  is  a  low  green  island,  called  Orndurman,  in  the  White 
Nile,  at  its  junction.  The  ferry-boat  had  just  brought  over  a 
party  of  merchants  from  Kordofan,  with  their  packages  of  gum 
A.  number  of  large  vessels,  belonging  to  the  government,  were 
hauled  up  on  the  bank,  and  several  Arabs,  under  the  direction 
of  a  Turkish  ship-builder,  were  making  repairs.  We  rode  a 
short  distance  up  the  White  Nile,  over  a  beach  which  was 
deeply  printed  with  the  enormous  foot-prints  of  a  whole  herd 
of  hippopotami,  and  then  home  through  the  fields  of  blossom- 
ing beans. 

The  Nile  was  to  me  a  source  of  greater  interest  than  all 
the  negro  kingdoms  between  Khartoum  and  Timbuctoo. 
There,  two  thousand  miles  from  his  mouth,  I  found  his  current 
as  broad,  as  strong,  and  as  deep  as  at  Cairo,  and  was  no  nearer 
the  mystery  of  his  origin.  If  I  should  ascend  the  western  of 
his  tw<  branches,  I  might  follow  his  windings  twelve  hundred 
miles  further  and  still  find  a  broad  and  powerful  stream,  of 
14 


314  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

whose  source  even  the  tribes  that  dwell  in  those  far  regions  are 
ignorant.  I  am  confident  that  when  the  hidden  fountains  shall 
at  last  be  reached,  and  the  problem  of  twenty  centuries  solved, 
the  entire  length  of  the  Nile  will  be  found  to  be  not  less  than 
four  thousand  miles,  and  he  will  then  take  his  rank  with  th« 
Mississippi  ami  the  Amazon — a  sublime  trinity  of  streams 
There  is,  in  some  respects,  a  striking  resemblance  between  the 
Nile  and  the  former  river.  The  Missouri  is  the  true  Missis- 
sippi, rolling  the  largest  flood  and  giving  his  color  to  the  min- 
gled streams.  So  of  the  White  Nile,  which  is  broad  and  tur- 
bid, and  pollutes  the  clear  blue  flood  that  has  usurped  his  name 
and  dignity.  In  spite  of  what  geographers  may  say — and 
they  are  still  far  from  being  united  on  the  subject — the  Blue 
Nile  is  not  the  true  Nile.  There,  at  the  point  of  junction, 
his  volume  of  water  is  greater,*  but  he  is  fresh  from  the  moun- 
tains and  constantly  fed  by  large,  unfailing  affluents,  while  the 
White  Nile  has  rolled  for  more  than  a  thousand  miles  on  near- 
ly a  dead  level,  through  a  porous,  alluvial  soil,  in  which  he 
loses  more  water  than  he  brings  with  him. 

*  Capt  Peel,  who  measured  the  volume  of  water  in  the  two  rivers, 
gives  the  following  result:  Breadth  of  the  Blue  Nile  at  Khartoum,  768 
yards;  average  depth,  16.11  feet;  average  current,  1.564  knots;  volume 
of  water,  5,820,600  cubic  feet  per  minute.  Breadth  of  the  White  Nile, 
immediately  above  the  junction,  483  yards;  average  depth,  13.92  feet; 
average  current,  1.47  knots ;  volume  of  water,  2,985,400  feet  per  minute. 
Breadth  of  the  Nile  below  the  junction,  1107  yards;  average  depth, 
14.38  feet ;  average  current.  2  knots ;  volume  of  water,  9,526,700  cubic 
feet  per  minute.  This  measurement  was  made  in  the  latter  part  of  Octo- 
ber, 1851.  It  can  hardly  be  considered  conclusive,  aa  during  the  pre- 
ceding summer  the  rains  had  been  unusually  heavy  in  the  mountains  of 
Abyssinia,  which  may  have  occasioned  a  greater  disproportion  thai 
usual,  in  the  volume  of  iLe  two  rivers. 


THE    Bl  UK    NILE.  316 

The  Blue  Nile,  whose  source  the  honest,  long-slandered 
Bruce  did  actually  discover,  rises  near  lat.  1 1°  N.  in  the  moun- 
tains of  Godjam,  on  the  south-western  frontier  of  Abyssinia. 
Thence  it  flows  northward  into  the  great  lake  of  Dembea,  01 
Tzaua,  near  its  southern  extremity.  The  lake  is  shallow  and 
muddy,  and  the  river  carries  his  clear  flood  through  it  without 
mixing.  He  then  flows  to  the  south  and  south-east,  under  the 
name  of  Tzana,  along  the  borders  of  the  kingdom  of  Shoa,  to 
between  lat.  9°  and  10°,  whence  he  curves  again  to  the  north 
and  finds  his  way  through  the  mountains  of  Fazogl  to  the  plains 
of  Sennaar.  His  entire  length  cannot  be  less  than  eight  hun- 
dred miles.  The  stream  is  navigable  as  far  as  the  mountains  v 
about  three  hundred  miles  from  Khartoum,  where  it  is  inter- 
rupted by  rapids.  The  Arabic  name  El-bahr  el-Azrek, 
means  rather  "  black "  than  "  blue,"  the  term  azrek  being 
used  with  reference  to  objects  of  a  dark,  blue-black  color ;  and 
besides,  it  is  called  black,  in  contradistinction  to  the  Bohr  el- 
Abiad,  the  white  Nile.  The  boatmen  here  also  frequently 
speak  of  the  black  river  as  he,  and  the  white  as  she.  When  T 
asked  the  reason  of  this,  they  replied  that  it  was  because  the 
former  had  a  stronger  current.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  name 
"  Nile,"  which  is  never  heard  in  Egypt,  (where  the  river  is 
simply  called  el-bahr,  "  the  sea,")  should  be  retained  in 
Ethiopia.  There  the  boatmen  speak  of  "  el-bahr  el-N$," 
which  name  they  also  sometimes  apply  to  the  Blue  Nile.  It 
is  therefore  easy  to  understand  why  the  latter  river  should  have 
been  looked  upon  as  the  main  current  of  the  Nile. 

After  I  had  been  eight  or  ten  days  in  Khartoum,  I  began 
to  think  of  penetrating  further  into  the  interior.  My  inten- 
tion, on  leaving  Cairo,  was  to  push  on  as  far  as  my  time  and 


316  JOURNEI    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

means  would  allow,  and  the  White  Nile  was  the  great  point  ol 
attraction.  The  long  journey  I  had  already  made  in  order  to 
reach  Soudan  only  whetted  my  desire  of  seeing  more  of  the 
wild,  barbaric  life  of  Central  Africa,  and,  owing  to  the  good 
luck  which  had  saved  me  from  any  delay  on  the  road,  I  could 
spare  three  or  four  weeks  for  further  journeys,  before  setting 
out  on  my  return  to  Egypt.  Some  of  my  friends  in  Khar- 
toum  counselled  one  plan  and  some  another,  but  after  distract- 
ing myself  in  a  maze  of  uncertainties,  I  returned  to  my  first 
love,  and  determined  to  make  a  voyage  up  the  White  Nile. 
There  was  little  to  be  gained  by  visiting  Kordofan,  as  I  had 
already  seen  Central  African  life  to  better  advantage  in  Khar- 
toum. Sennaar  is  now  only  interesting  as  a  station  on  the 
way  to  Abyssinia  or  the  mountains  of  Fazogl,  and  in  the  wild 
regions  along  the  Atbara  it  is  impossible  to  travel  without  an 
armed  escort.  As  it  is  exceedingly  dangerous  for  a  single  boat 
to  pass  through  the  extensive  negro  kingdoms  of  the  Shillooks 
and  the  Dinkas,  I  had  hoped  to  accompany  Dr.  Knoblecher's 
expedition  some  distance  up  the  river  and  then  take  my  chance 
of  returning.  The  boat  belonging  to  the  Catholic  Mission, 
however,  had  not  arrived  from  Cairo,  and  the  season  was  so 
far  advanced  that  the  expedition  had  been  postponed  until  the 
following  November.  At  the  time  of  my  visit,  nevertheless,  a 
Maltese  trader  named  Lattif  Effendi,  was  fitting  up  two  large 
vessels  which  were  shortly  to  leave  on  a  trading  voyage  which 
he  intended  pu&hing  as  far  as  the  Bari  country.  I  could  have 
made  arrangements  to  accompany  him,  but  as  he  could  not  re- 
turn before  some  time  in  June,  I  should  have  been  obliged,  ic 
that  case,  to  pass  the  sickly  season  in  Soudan — a  risk  scarcely 
worth  the  profit,  as,  with  the  best  possible  gooi  luck,  I  might 


E.VOAOING    A    VESSEL.  81? 

barely  have  reached  the  point  attained  by  Dr.  Knobleoher. 
The  Consul  proposed  iny  going  with  Lattif  Effendi  until  I 
nhould  meet  the  yearly  expedition  on  its  return,  and  then  como 
down  the  river  with  it.  This  would  have  enabled  me  to  pene- 
trate to  lat.  9°,  or  perhaps  8°,  but  after  passing  the  islands  of 
the  Shillooks,  one  sees  little  except  water,  grass  and  mosqui- 
toes, until  he  reaches  the  land  of  the  Kyks,  in  lat  7°.  After 
weighing  carefully  all  the  arguments  on  both  sides,  I  decided 
to  take  a  small  boat  and  ascend  as  far  as  the  islands.  Here 
the  new  and  rich  animal  and  vegetable  world  of  the  magnifi- 
cent river  begins  to  unfold,  and  in  many  respects  it  is  the  most 
impressive  portion  of  his  stream. 

I  was  fortunate  in  finding  a  small  vessel,  of  the  kind  called 
sandal — the  only  craft  in  port,  except  the  Pasha's  dahabiyeh, 
which  would  have  answered  my  purpose.  It  belonged  to  a  fat 
old  Turk,  named  Abou-Balta,  from  whom  I  engaged  it  for 
three  hundred  and  twenty-five  piastres.  The  crew  consisted 
of  a  rais,  five  strong  Congolese  sailors,  and  a  black  female 
slave,  as  cook.  The  rais  knew  the  river,  but  positively  refus- 
ed to  take  me  further  than  the  island  of  Aba,  somewhere  be- 
tween lat.  12°  and  13°,  on  account  of  the  danger  of  venturing 
among  the  Shillooks,  without  an  armed  force.  I  named  the 
boat  the  John  Ledyard,  in  memory  of  the  first  American 
traveller  in  Africa.  The  name  was  none  the  less  appropriate, 
since  Ledyard  was  buried  beside  the  Nile,  at  the  outset  of  a 
journey  undertaken  for  the  purpose  of  discovering  its  sourcea 
Dr.  Reitz  gave  me  two  sheep  as  provision  for  the  voyage,  and 
the  remainder  of  my  outfit  cost  me  about  a  hundred  and  tweu 
iy  piastres  in  the  bazaars  of  Khartoum. 

I  reached  Khartoum  at  a  favorable  season  for  making  tbt 


318  JOURNKT   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

voyage.  Formerly,  it  had  been  very  difficult  for  any  Euro 
pean  to  obtain  permission  to  sail  on  the  White  Nile,  owing  U 
the  trade  of  the  river  having  been  completely  monopolized  by 
the  Pasha  of  Soudan,  in  defiance  of  the  Treaty  of  1838,  which 
made  the  river  free  to  merchants  of  all  nations.  No  later 
than  the  previous  winter,  Count  Dandolo,  an  Italian  traveller 
who  visited  Khartoum,  encountered  much  opposition  before  he 
succeeded  in  obtaining  a  boat  for  the  Islands  of  the  Shillooks. 
Owing  to  the  vigorous  efforts  of  Dr.  Reitz,  the  monopoly  had 
at  last  been  broken  down,  and  the  military  guard  formerly 
stationed  at  the  confluence  of  the  two  rivers,  no  longer  existed. 
I  did  not  even  inform  the  Pasha  of  my  intention  to  make  the 
voyage  until  after  I  had  taken  the  boat  and  completed  my 
preparations.  I  then  paid  him  a  visit  of  ceremony,  in  com- 
pany with  the  Consul.  He  was  very  affable,  and  insisted  on 
our  remaining  for  dinner,  although  we  had  invited  two  friends 
to  help  us  eat  a  roasted  ram.  We  urged  this  in  excuse,  but 
he  cut  us  off  by  exclaiming  :  "  I  am  ruler  here,  and  my  com- 
mands dare  not  be  disobeyed,"  and  immediately  sent  a  servant 
to  order  our  guests,  in  his  name,  to  eat  the  ram  themselves. 
He  then  despatched  messengers  for  Abd-el-Kader  Bey,  Gover- 
nor of  Kordofan,  and  Ruffaa  Bey,  who  were  brought  to  the 
palace  in  the  same  arbitrary  manner.  Having  thus  secured 
his  company,  he  retired  for  the  usual  prayers  before  dinner, 
leaving  us  to  enjoy  the  preparatory  pipe.  Among  the  mani- 
fold dishes  served  at  dinner,  were  three  or  four  kinds  of  fish 
from  the  White  Nile,  all  of  them  of  excellent  flavor.  The 
Pasha  continued  his  discussion  of  Louis  Napoleon's  coup 
d'etat,  taking  delight  in  recommending  a  sanguinary  policy 
KS  the  only  course,  and  could  not  enough  praise  Sultan 


1TX    BET    BAIL.  319 

oiahmoud  I    for  his  execution  of  forty  thousand  Janissariei 
.u  one  day. 

Finally,  on  the  morning  of  the  22d  of  January,  my  effect* 
were  all  on  board,  and  my  rais  and  sailors  in  readiness.  Ach 
aiet  and  Ali  preceded  me  to  the  boat  with  many  misgivings 
for  we  were  now  going  into  regions  where  the  Pasha's  name 
was  scarcely  known — where  the  Egyptian  sway  had  never 
reached — a  land  of  kaffirs,  or  infidels,  who  were  supposed  to 
be  nearly  related  to  the  terrible  "  Nyam-Nyams,"  the  anthro- 
pophagi of  Central  Africa.  Achmet  could  not  comprehend 
my  exhilaration  of  spirits,  and  in  reply  to  my  repeated  ex- 
clamations of  satisfaction  and  delight,  observed,  with  a  shake 
of  the  head  :  <:  If  it  were  not  that  we  left  Cairo  on  a  lucky 
day,  0  my  master !  I  should  never  expect  to  see  Khartoum 
again."  Fat  Abou-Balta,  who  had  promised  to  accompany  me 
as  far  as  the  first  village  on  the  White  Nile,  did  not  make  hia 
appearance,  and  so  we  pushed  off  without  him.  Never  was 
name  more  wrongly  applied  than  that  of  Abou-Balta  (the  "  fa- 
ther of  hatchets "),  for  he  weighed  three  hundred  pounds,  had 
a  face  like  the  full  moon,  and  was  the  jolliest  Turk  I  ever  saw. 
Dr.  Reitz,  whose  hospitality  knew  no  bounds,  sent  his  drome- 
daries up  the  river  the  day  previous,  and  accompanied  me  with 
nis  favorite  servants — two  ebony  boys,  with  shining  counte- 
nances and  white  and  scarlet  dr 


The  White  Nile, 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

VOYAGE      UP      THE      WHITK      NILE. 


Departure  from  Khartoum— We  enter  the  White  Nile— Mirage  and  Landscape— The 
Consul  returns— Progress— Loss  of  the  Flag  -Scenery  of  the  Shores— Territory  of 
the  Hassaniyehs — Curious  Conjngal  Custom — Multitudes  of  Water  Fowls — Inereas- 
e'  Richness  of  Vegetation— Apes — Sunset  on  the  White  Nile — We  reach  the  King 
lorn  of  the  Shillook  Negroes. 

"At  night  be  heard  the  lion  roar 

And  the  hyena  scream, 
And  the  rive'r-liorse  as  he  crushed  the  reeda 

Beside  some  hidden  stream : 
And  It  passed  like  a  glorious  roll  of  drums 
Through  the  triumph  of  his  dream." — LoiramLow. 

THE  men  pushed  away  from  shore  with  some  difficulty,  as  a 
violent  north-wind  drove  the  boat  back,  but  the  sail  once  un- 
fbrled,  we  shot  like  an  arrow  between  the  gardens  of  Khar- 
toum and  the  jrreen  shores  of  the  island  of  TutL  Before 


ENTERING    THE    WHITE    NILE.  321 

reaching  the  confluence  of  the  rivers,  a  jut  of  land  obliged  the 
sailors  again  to  take  to  their  poles  and  oars,  but  a  short  time 
sufficed  to  bring  us  to  the  turning-point.  Here  the  colors  of 
the  different  streams  are  strongly  marked.  They  are  actually 
blue  and  white,  aud  meet  in  an  even  line,  which  can  be  seen 
extending  far  down  the  common  tid*.  We  tossed  on  the  agi- 
tated line  of  their  junction,  but  the  wind  carried  us  in  a  few 
minutes  past  the  island  of  Omdurman,  which  lies  opposite. 
The  first  American  flag  that  ever  floated  over  the  White  Nile, 
fluttered  gayly  at  the  mast-head,  pointing  to  the  south — to 
those  vast,  mysterious  regions  out  of  which  the  mighty  stream 
finds  its  way.  A  flock  of  the  sacred  ibis  alighted  on  the  sandy 
shore  of  the  island,  where  the  tall  king-heron,  with  his  crest 
of  stately  feathers,  watched  us  as  he  walked  up  and  down.  In 
front,  over  the  island  of  Moussa  Bey,  a  broad  mirage  united 
its  delusive  waters  with  those  of  the  true  river  and  lifted  the 
distant  shores  so  high  above  the  horizon  that  they  seemed 
floating  in  the  air.  The  stream,  which  is  narrow  at  its  junc- 
tion with  the  Blue  Nile,  expanded  to  a  breadth  of  two  miles 
and  the  shores  ahead  of  us  were  so  low  that  we  appeared  to  be 
at  the  entrance  of  a  great  inland  sea.  Our  course  swerved  to 
the  eastward,  so  that  we  were  in  the  rear  of  Khartoum,  whose 
minaret  was  still  visible  when  we  were  ten  miles  distant.  The 
low  mud  dwellings  of  the  town  were  raised  to  twice  their  real 
height,  by  the  effect  of  the  mirage.  The  shores  on  either  sid< 
were  sandy  tracts,  almost  uncultivated,  and  covered  with  an 
xbundant  growth  of  thorns,  mimosas  and  a  small  tree  with 
thick  green  foliage.  By  twelve  o'clock  we  reached  the  point 
where  Dr.  Reitz  had  sent  his  dromedaries,  which  were  in 
readiness,  kneeling  on  the  beach.  We  could  not  approach  tb« 
14* 


822  JOUKNEY    TO    CKXTKAL    AFRICA. 

shore,  on  account  of  the  mud,  but  the  sailors  carried  as  out  or 
their  shoulders.  I  rode  with  him  to  a  small  Arab  hamlet, 
scattered  among  the  thorny  thickets.  There  were  but  two 
mud  houses,  the  other  dwellings  being  merely  rude  tents  of 
grass  matting  ;  few  of  the  inhabitants  were  at  home,  but  those 
few  were  peaceable  and  friendly.  As  the  Consul  had  a  ridi 
of  four  or  five  hours  before  him,  he  wished  me  good  luck  and 
set  off  northward,  while  the  sailors,  who  were  in  waiting,  car- 
ried me  back  to  the  boat. 

All  the  afternoon  I  sped  before  a  strong  wind  up  the  mag- 
nificent river.  Its  breadth  varied  from  two  to  three  miles,  but 
its  current  was  shallow  and  sluggish.  The  shores  were  sandy, 
and  covered  with  groves  of  the  gum-producing  mimosa,  which 
appeared  for  the  first  time  in  profusion.  About  four  o'clock  I 
passed  a  low,  isolated  hill  on  the  eastern  bank,  which  the 
sailors  called  Djdr  en-nebbee,  and  near  sunset,  a  long  ridge  on 
the  right,  two  miles  inland,  broke  the  dead  level  of  the  plains 
of  Kordofan.  The  sand-banks  were  covered  with  wild  geese 
and  ducks  in  myriads,  and  here  and  there  we  saw  an  en  or 
mous  crocodile  lounging  on  the  edge  of  the  water.  The  sun 
went  down ;  the  short  twilight  faded,  and  I  was  canopied  by  a 
superb  starlit  heaven.  Taurus,  Orion,  Sirius  and  the  South- 
ern  Cross  sparkled  in  one  long,  unbroken  galaxy  of  splendor. 
The  breeze  was  mild  and  light,  and  the  waves  rippled  with  a 
pleasant  sound  against  the  prow.  My  sailors  sat  on  the  for- 
ward  deck,  singing  doleful  songs,  to  which  the  baying  of  dogs 
and  the  yells  of  hyenas  made  a  fit  accompai  iment.  The  dis- 
tant shores  of  the  river  were  lighted  with  the  fires  of  the  Mo- 
hammediyeh  Arabs,  and  we  heard  the  men  shouting  to  each 
other  occasionally.  About  nine  o'clock  we  passed  their  prin 


i,O8S    OF    MY    FLAG.  823 

cipal  village,  and  approached  the  territories  of  the  Hassani- 

yehs. 

The  wind  fell  about  ten  o'clock,  and  the  boat  came  to  an 
chor  I  awoke  an  hour  or  two  after  midnight  and  found  i 
blowing  again  fresh  and  strong ;  whereupon  I  roused  the  rai'8 
and  sailors,  and  made  them  hoist  sail  We  gained  so  much 
by  this  move,  that  by  sunrise  we  had  passed  the  village  of 
Shekh  Moussa,  and  were  entering  the  territories  of  the  Hassa- 
niyeh  Arabs ;  the  last  tribe  which  is  subject  to  the  Pasha  of 
Soudan  Beyond  them  are  the  primitive  Negro  Kingdoms  of 
Central  Africa,  in  almost  the  same  condition  now  as  they  have 
been  for  thousands  of  years  past.  About  sunrise  the  rais  or- 
dered the  sails  to  be  furled,  and  the  vessel  put  about.  The 
men  were  rowing  some  time  before  I  discovered  the  cause. 
Whilst  attempting  to  hoist  my  flag,  one  of  them  let  it  fall  into 
the  water,  and  instead  of  jumping  in  after  it,  as  I  should  have 
done  had  I  seen  it,  suffered  the  vessel  to  go  some  distance  be- 
fore he  even  announced  the  loss.  We  were  then  so  far  from 
the  spot,  that  any  attempt  to  recover  it  would  have  been  use- 
less, and  so  the  glorious  stars  and  stripes  which  had  floated 
thus  far  triumphantly  into  Africa,  met  the  fate  of  most  travel- 
lers in  those  regions.  They  lay  imbedded  in  the  mud  of  the 
WLito  Nile,  and  I  sailed  away  from  the  spot  with  a  pang,  as 
if  a  friend  had  been  drowned  there.  The  flag  of  one's  country 
is  ntper  dearer  to  him  than  when  it  is  his  companion  and  pro- 
tector in  foreign  lands. 

During  the  whole  forenoon  we  sailed  at  the  rate  of  six  o» 
aeven  miles  an  hour,  in  the  centre  of  the  river,  whose  breadth 
varied  from  two  to  three  miles.  The  shores  no  longer  pre- 
sented the  same  dead  level  as  on  the  first  day  They  were 


324  JOURNEY  TO  CENTRAL  AFRICA. 

banks  of  sandy  soil,  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  height,  and  covered 
with  forests  of  the  gum-bearing  mimosa,  under  which  gre^ 
thickets  of  a  dense  green  shrub,  mixed  with  cactus  and  euphor- 
bia. The  gum  is  a  tree  from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  in  height, 
with  a  thick  trunk  and  spreading  branches),  and  no  Italian  oak 
or  chestnut  presents  a  greater  variety  of  picturesque  forms  to 
the  painter's  eye.  The  foliage  is  thin,  allowing  the  manifold 
articulations  of  the  boughs  and  twigs  to  be  seen  through  it. 
It  was  most  abundant  on  the  Kordofan  side,  and  the  greater 
proportion  of  the  gum  annually  exported  to  Egypt  comes  from 
that  country.  The  broad  tide  of  the  river  and  the  wild  luxu- 
riance of  the  continuous  forests  that  girdled  it,  gave  this  part 
of  its  course  an  air  of  majesty,  which  recalled  the  Mississippi 
to  my  mind.  There  was  not  a  single  feature  that  resembled 
Egypt. 

Towards  noon  we  reached  the  more  thickly  populated  dis- 
tricts of  the  Hassaniyeh.  The  town  of  Damas,  on  the  east, 
and  Tura,  on  the  west,  not  very  distant  from  each  other,  were 
the  first  I  saw  since  leaving  Khartoum.  They  were  merely 
clusters  of  tokuls,  or  the  straw  huts  of  the  natives,  built  in  a 
circular  form,  with  a  conical  roof  of  matting,  the  smoke  escap- 
ing through  an  opening  in  the  top.  At  both  these  places,  as 
well  as  at  other  points  along  the  river,  the  natives  had  ferries*, 
and  appeared  to  be  busy  in  transporting  men,  camels  and  goods 
from  one  bank  to  the  other.  On  account  of  the  breadth  of  the 
river  the  passage  was  long,  and  the  boatmen  eased  their  labor 
by  making  a  sail  of  their  cotton  mantles,  which  they  fastened 
to  two  upright  sticks.  The  shores  were  crowded  with  herds 
of  sheep  and  goats,  and  I  saw  near  Damas  a  large  drove  of 
eamel  s  which  were  waiting  an  opportunity  to  cross.  The  Has 


SINGULAR    CONJCGAL    C16TOM.  82fi 

ganiyehs  own  no  camels,  and  this  was  probably  a  caravan  from 
Khartoum,  bound  for  Kordofan.  In  some  places  the  people 
brought  donkeys  laden  with  water-skins,  which  they  filled  from 
the  river.  I  noticed,  occasionally,  a  small  patch  of  beans,  but 
nothing  that  looked  like  a  regular  system  of  cultivation.  The 
Hassaniyehs  are  yellow,  with  straight  features,  and  resemble 
the  Fellahs  of  Lower  Egypt  more  than  any  other  Central- Af- 
rican tribe.  Those  whom  we  saw  at  a  distance  from  the  vil- 
lages retreated  with  signs  of  fear  as  my  vessel  approached  the 
shore.  Dr.  Peney,  the  Medical  Inspector  of  Soudan,  describ- 
ed to  me,  while  in  Khartoum,  some  singular  customs  of  these 
Arabs.  The  rights  of  women,  it  appears,  are  recognized 
among  them  more  thoroughly  than  among  any  other  savage 
people  in  the  world.  When  a  woman  is  married,  her  father 
states  that  one  fourth  of  her  life  thenceforth  is  reserved  for  her 
own  use,  and  the  husband  is  obliged  to  respect  this  reserva- 
tion. Every  fourth  day  she  is  released  from  the  marriage  vow, 
and  if  she  loves  some  one  else  better  than  her  husband,  he  can 
dwell  in  her  tent  that  day,  obliging  the  husband  himself  to  re- 
tire. Their  hospitality  is  such,  moreover,  that  if  a  stranger 
visits  one  of  their  settlements  they  furnish  him,  for  four  days, 
with  a  tent  and  a  wife.  They  should  add  a  family  of  chil- 
dren, and  then  their  hospitality  would  be  complete.  No  re- 
proach whatever  attaches  to  the  woman,  on  account  of  this  tem- 
porary connection.  The  Hassaniyeh,  in  other  respects,  are 
not  more  immoral  than  other  tribes,  and  these  customs  appear 
to  be  connected  with  their  religious  faith. 

After  passing  Tura  (the  terminus  of  a  short  caravan  route 
of  four  days  to  Obeid,  th(  capital  of  Kordofan),  a  mountain 
range,  some  distance  from  the  river,  appeared  on  the  right 


326  JOURNEY    TC    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

bank.  The  peaks  were  broken  and  conical  in  form,  and  then 
pale-violet  hue  showed  with  fine  effect  behind  the  dark  line  of 
the  gum  forests.  With  every  hour  of  our  progress,  the  vege- 
tation grew  more  rank  and  luxuriant.  On  the  eastern  bant 
the  gum  gave  place  to  the  flowering  mimosa,  which  rose  in 
»  dense  rampart  from  the  water's  edge  and  filled  the  air  with 
the  fragrance  of  its  blossoms.  Myriads  of  wild  geese,  ducks, 
cranes,  storks,  herons  and  ibises  sat  on  the  narrow  beaches  of 
sand  or  circled  in  the  air  with  hoarse  clang  and  croaking. 
Among  them  I  saw  more  than  one  specimen  of  that  rare  and 
curious  water-bird,  whose  large,  horny  bill  curves  upward  in- 
stead of  downward,  so  that  it  appears  to  have  been  put  on  the 
wrong  way.  As  he  eats  nothing  but  small  fish,  which  he  swal 
lows  with  his  head  under  water,  this  is  not  such  a  great  incon- 
venience as  one  would  suppose.  The  bars  which  occasionally 
made  out  into  the  current  served  as  a  resting-place  for  croco- 
diles, which  now  began  to  appear  in  companies  of  ten  or  fifteen, 
and  the  forests  were  filled  with  legions  of  apes,  which  leaped 
chattering  down  from  the  branches  to  look  at  us.  A  whole 
family  of  them  sat  on  the  bank  for  some  time,  watching  us,  aud 
when  we  frightened  them  away  by  our  shouts,  it  was  amusing 
to  see  a  mother  pick  up  her  infant  ape,  and  scamper  off  with  it 
under  her  arm.  The  wild  fowl  were  astonishingly  tame,  and 
many  of  them  so  fat  that  they  seemed  scarcely  able  to  fly 
Here  and  there,  along  the  shore,  large  broods  of  the  young 
were  making  their  first  essays  in  swimming.  The  boatmen 
took  great  delight  in  menacing  the  old  birds  with  pieces  of 
wood,  in  order  to  make  them  dive  under  water.  There  were 
some  superb  white  cranes,  with  a  rosy  tinge  along  the  edges 
of  their  wings,  and  I  saw  two  more  of  the  crested  king-herons 


A    MID-AFRICAN    LANDSCAPE.  321 

After  passing  the  island  of  Tshebeshi,  the  river,  which  still 
retains  its  great  breadth,  is  bordered  by  a  swampy  growth  of 
reeds.  It  is  filled  with  numerous  low  islands,  covered  with 
trees,  mostly  dead,  and  with  waste,  white  branches  which  have 
drifted  down  during  the  inundation.  In  the  forests  along  the 
shore  many  trees  had  also  been  killed  by  the  high  water  of  the 
previous  summer.  There  are  no  habitations  on  this  part  of 
the  river,  but  all  is  wild,  and  lonely,  and  magnificent.  I  had 
seen  no  sail  since  leaving  Khartoum,  and  as  the  sun  that  even- 
ing threw  his  last  red  rays  on  the  mighty  flood,  I  felt  for  the 
first  time  that  I  was  alone,  far  in  the  savage  heart  of  Africa. 
We  dashed  along  at  a  most  exciting  rate  of  speed,  brushing  the 
reeds  of  the  low  islands,  or  dipping  into  the  gloom  of  the  shad- 
ows thrown  by  the  unpruned  forests.  The  innumerable  swarms 
of  wild  birds  filled  the  air  with  their  noise,  as  they  flew  to  their 
coverts,  or  ranged  themselves  in  compact  files  on  the  sand. 
Above  all  their  din,  I  heard  at  intervals,  from  the  unseen 
thickets  inland,  the  prolonged  snarling  roar  of  some  wild  beast 
It  was  too  deep- toned  and  powerful  for  a  leopard,  and  we  all 
decided  that  it  was  a  lion.  As  I  was  watching  the  snowy 
cranes  and  silvery  herons  that  alighted  on  the  boughs  within 
pistol-shot,  my  men  pointed  out  a  huge  hippopotamus,  standing 
in  the  reeds,  but  a  short  distance  from  the  vessel  He  was  be- 
tween five  and  six  feet  high,  but  his  head,  body  and  legs  were 
of  enormous  bulk.  He  looked  at  us,  opened  his  great  jaws, 
gave  his  swine-like  head  a  toss  in  the  air,  and  plunged  hastily 
into  the  water.  At  the  same  instant  an  immense  crocodile 
(perhaps  twenty  feet  in  length)  left  his  basking-place  on  the 
sand  and  took  refuge  in  the  rive.r.  Soon  afterwards  two  hippo 
potami  rose  in  the  centre  of  the  stream,  and,  after  snorting  th« 


828  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

water  from  their  nostrils,  entertained  us  with  a  peculiar  grunt- 
ing sound,  like  the  lowest  rumbling  note  of  a  double-bass.  The 
concert  was  continued  by  others,  and  resumed  from  time  to  time 
through  the  night.  This  was  Central  Africa  as  I  had  dream- 
ed it — a  grand  though  savage  picture,  full  of  life  and  heat,  and 
with  a  barbaric  splendor  even  in  the  forms  of  Nature. 

As  the  new  moon  and  the  evening  star  went  down  together 
behind  the  mimosa  forests  on  the  western  bank,  we  reached  the 
island  of  Hassaniyeh,  having  sailed  upward  of  one  hundred 
and  forty  miles  since  the  evening  before.  I  had  every  pros- 
pect of  reaching  my  destination,  the  island  of  Aba,  in  the 
archipelago  of  the  Shillooks,  before  noon  the  next  day,  or  in 
two  days  from  Khartoum — a  distance  of  more  than  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles !  Better  sailing  than  this  was  never  made 
on  the  Nile.  Four  more  days  of  such  wind  would  have  taken  me 
to  the  Bahr  el-Ghazal,  in  lat.  9° — the  land  of  lions,  elephants, 
and  giraffes,  where  the  Nile  becomes  a  sea  of  grass.  It  became 
more  difficult  for  me  to  return,  the  further  I  advanced.  At 
nine  o'clock  we  passed  the  island  of  Hassaniyeh,  and  saw  the 
fires  of  the  Shillook  negroes  burning  brightly  on  the  western 
bank.  The  wind  blew  more  briskly  than  ever,  and  I  dashed 
onward  in  the  starlight  with  the  painful  knowledge  that  I  was 
fast  approaching  the  point  beyond  which  I  dared  not  go. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 


ADVENTURES     AMONG     THE      SHILLOOK      NEGROES. 


-Magnificence  of  the  Island  Scenery  —  Birds  and  Hippopotami—  Flight  ot  (ht 
«  Island  of  Aba—  Signs  of  Population-  A  Band  of  Warriors—  The  Bhekb 
and  me  Sultan  —  A  Treaty  of  Peace  —  The  Robe  of  Honor  —  Suspicions  —  We  walk  to 
the  Village  —  Appearance  of  the  Sbillooks  —  The  Village  —  The  Sultan  gives  Audieno 
—  Women  and  Children  —  Ornaments  of  the  Natives  —  My  Watch  —  A  Jar  of  Honey  — 
Suspicion  and  Alarm—  The  Shillook  and  the  Sultan's  Black  Wife—  Character  of  the 
Shillooks—  The  Land  of  the  Lotus—  Population  of  the  Shillook  Kingdom—  The  Turn- 
ing  Point  —  A  View  from  the  Mast-Head. 

WE  sailed  nearly  all  night  with  a  steady  north-wind,  which 
towards  morning  became  so  strong  that  the  men  were  obliged 
to  take  in  sail  and  let  us  scud  under  bare  poles.  When  I  rose, 
in  the  gray  of  early  dawn,  they  were  about  hoisting  the  little 
stern-sheet,  which  alone  sufficed  to  carry  us  along  at  the  rate 
of  four  miles  an  hour.  We  had  passed  the  frontier  of  Egyp- 
tian Soudan  soon  after  sunset,  and  were  then  deep  in  the  negro 
kingdom  of  the  Shillooks.  The  scenery  had  changed  consider- 
ably since  the  evening.  The  forests  were  taller  and  more 
dense,  and  the  river  more  thickly  studded  with  islands,  the  soil 
of  which  was  entirely  concealed  by  the  luxuriant  girdle  of 
shrubs  and  water-plants,  in  which  they  lay  imbedded.  The 


330  JOURNEY    TO    rr.YTWAL    AFRICA. 

umbak,  a  species  of  aquatic  shrub,  with  leaves  resembling  th« 
sensitive  plant  and  winged,  beau-like  blossoms  of  a  rich  yellow 
hue,  grew  on  the  edge  of  the  shore,  with  its  roots  in  the  water 
and  its  long  arms  floating  on  the  surface.  It  formed  impene- 
trable ramparts  around  the  islands  and  shores,  except  where 
the  hippopotamus  and  crocodile  had  trodden  paths  into  the 
forests,  or  the  lion  and  leopard  had  come  down  to  the  river's 
margin  to  drink.  Behind  this  floating  hem  of  foliage  and  blos- 
soms appeared  other  and  larger  shrubs,  completely  matted  to- 
gether with  climbing  vines,  which  covered  them  like  a  mantle 
and  hung  from  their  branches  dangling  streamers  of  white  and 
purple  and  yellow  blossoms.  They  even  stretched  to  the 
boughu  of  the  large  mimosa,  or  sont  trees,  which  grew  in  the 
centre  of  the  islands,  thus  binding  all  together  in  rounded 
masses.  Some  of  the  smaller  islands  resembled  floating  hills 
of  vegetation,  and  their  slopes  and  summits  of  impervious  foli- 
age, rolling  in  the  wind,  appeared  to  keep  time  with  the  rock- 
iug  of  the  waves  that  upheld  them.  The  profusion  of  vegeta- 
ble life  reminded  me  of  the  Chagres  River.  If  not  so  rich 
and  gorgeous,  it  was  on  a  far  grander  scale.  The  river  had 
still  a  breadth  of  a  mile  and  a  half,  where  his  current  was  free, 
but  where  island  crowded  on  island  in  a  vast  archipelago  of 
leafy  shores,  he  took  a  much  wider  sweep.  The  waves  danced 
and  glistened  in  the  cool  northern  wind,  as  we  glided  around 
his  majestic  curves,  and  I  stood  on  deck  watching  the  wonder- 
ful panorama  unfold  on  either  side,  with  a  feeling  of  exul- 
tation to  which  I  gave  free  vent.  In  no  other  river  have  I 
Been  landscapes  of  larger  or  more  imposing  character. 

All  the  rich  animal  world  of  this  region  was  awake  and 
stirring  before  the  sun.      The  wild  fowls  left  their  roosts ;  the 


THE    ISLANDS    OF    THE    SHU, LOOKS.  331 

zikzaks  flew  twittering  over  the  waves,  calling  up  their  mates, 
the  sleepy  crocodiles ;  the  herons  stretched  their  wings  against 
the  wind ;  the  monkeys  leaped  and  chattered  in  the  woods, 
and  at  last  whole  herds  of  hippopotami,  sporting  near  the  shore, 
came  up  spouting  water  from  their  nostrils,  in  a  manner  pre- 
cisely similar  to  the  grampus.  I  counted  six  together,  soon 
after  sunrise,  near  the  end  of  an  island.  They  floundered 
about  in  the  shallows  popping  up  their  heads  every  few  min- 
utes to  look  at  us,  and  at  last  walked  out  through  the  reede 
and  stood  upon  the  shore.  Soon  afterwards  five  more  appear- 
ed ou  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  thenceforth  we  saw  them 
almost  constantly,  and  sometimes  within  fifty  yards.  I  noticed 
one  which  must  have  been  four  feet  in  breadth  across  the  ears, 
and  with  a  head  nearly  five  feet  long.  He  opened  his  mouth 
wide  enough  to  show  two  round,  blunt  tusks,  or  rather  grinders, 
one  on  each  side.  They  exhibited  a  great  deal  of  curiosity, 
and  frequently  turned  about  after  we  had  passed,  and  followed 
for  some  time  in  our  wake. 

Soon  after  sunrise  the  rais  observed  some  Shillooks  in  the 
distance,  who  were  sinking  their  canoes  in  the  river,  aftei 
which  they  hastily  retreated  into  the  woods.  We  ran  alonj 
beside  the  embowering  shores,  till  we  reached  the  place.  The 
canoes  were  carefully  concealed  and  some  pieces  of  drift  wood 
thrown  over  the  spot,  as  if  left  there  by  the  river.  The  ran? 
nlinibed  to  the  mast-head  and  called  to  the  people,  assuring 
them  that  there  was  no  danger,  but,  though  we  peered  sharply 
into  the  thickets,  we  could  find  no  signs  of  any  human  being 
The  river  here  turned  to  the  south,  disclosing  other  and  rich- 
er groups  of  islands,  stretching  beyond  one  another  far  into  th« 
distance.  Directly  on  our  left  was  the  northern  point  of  the 


832  JOTTRNKY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

island  of  Aba,  our  destination.  As  the  island  is  six  or  eight 
miles  in  length,  I  determined  to  make  the  most  of  my  bargain, 
and  so  told  the  ra'is  that  he  must  take  me  to  its  further  end. 
and  to  the  villages  of  the  Shillooks,  whom  I  had  come  to  see. 
Abou-Hammed  was  small  in  body,  but  had  a  stout  heart.  The 
Consul  and  fat  Abou-Balta  had  given  him  special  instructions 
to  keep  me  out  of  danger,  yet  he  could  not  refuse  my  demands. 
We  sailed  two  or  three  miles  along  the  shore  of  Aba,  looking 
into  the  depths  of  its  ambak  forests  for  traces  of  the  Shillooks, 
who,  according  to  the  rais,  had  a  village  on  the  island.  Ou 
our  right  extended  a  chain  of  smaller  islands — bowery  masses 
of  leaves  and  blossoms — and  beyond  them  the  wild  forests  of 
the  western  bank.  Glorious  above  description  was  that  world 
of  waves  and  foliage — of  wood,  water  and  sky. 

At  last,  on  rounding  one  of  the  coves  of  Aba,  we  came 
upon  a  flock  of  sheep,  feeding  along  the  shore.  A  light  thread 
of  smoke  arose  from  among  some  dead,  fallen  trees,  a  few  paces 
in  the  forest,  but  no  person  was  to  be  seen.  The  boat  was  run 
to  the  shore,  and  we  landed  and  examined  the  spot.  The  na- 
tives had  evidently  just  left,  for  the  brands  were  burning,  and 
we  saw  the  prints  of  their  long  feet  in  the  ashes.  The  rais  and 
sailors  walked  on  tiptoe  through  the  woods,  looking  for  the 
hidden  inhabitants.  The  mimosas,  which  here  grow  to  the 
height  of  fifty  feet,  met  above  our  heads  and  made  a  roof 
against  the  sun.  Some  large  gray  apes,  startled  by  our  visit, 
leaped  with  wonderful  dexterity  from  tree  to  4ree.  I  found 
several  abandoned  fire-places  during  my  walk,  and  near  the 
shore  saw  many  footprints  in  the  soft  soil  The  forest  was 
quite  clear  of  underwood,  but  the  crround  was  cumbered  with 
the  trunks  of  dead  trees.  There  were  but  few  flowering  plants 


WE    ENCOUNTER    THK    SHILLOOKB.  8.'58 

and  I  was  too  much  interested  in  the  search  for  the  Shillooks 
to  examine  them. 

The  ra  s  finally  descried  the  huts  of  the  village  at  a  dis- 
tance, near  the  extremity  of  the  island.  We  returned  to  the 
vessel,  and  were  about  putting  off  in  order  to  proceed  thither, 
when  a  large  body  of  men,  armed  with  spears,  appeared  in  the 
forest,  coming  towards  us  at  a  quick  pace.  The  rais,  who  had 
already  had  some  intercourse  with  these  people  and  knew  some- 
thing of  their  habits,  advanced  alone  to  meet  them.  I  could 
see,  through  the  trees,  that  a  consultation  was  held,  and  short- 
ly, though  with  some  signs  of  doubt  and  hesitation,  about  a 
dozen  of  the  savages  advanced  to  within  a  short  distance  of 
the  vessel,  while  the  others  sat  down  on  the  ground,  still  hold- 
ing the  spears  in  their  hands.  The  rais  now  returned  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  said  that  the  Shillooks  had  come  with  the 
intention  of  fighting,  but  he  had  informed  them  that  this  was  a 
visit  from  the  Sultan's  son,  who  came  to  see  them  as  a  friend, 
and  would  then  return  to  his  father's  country.  Thereupon 
they  consented  to  speak  with  me,  and  I  might  venture  to  go 
on  shore.  I  landed  again,  with  Achmet,  and  walked  up  with 
the  rais  to  the  spot  where  the  men  were  seated.  The  shekh 
of  the  island,  a  tall,  handsome  man,  rose  to  greet  me,  by  touch- 
ing the  palm  of  his  right  hand  to  mine  and  then  raising  it  to 
his  forehead.  I  made  a  like  salutation,  after  which  he  sat 
down.  The  vizier  (as  he  called  himself),  an  old  man  exces- 
sively black  in  complexion,  then  advanced,  and  the  other  war- 
tiors  in  succession,  till  all  had  saluted  me.  The  conversation 
was  carried  on  in  the  Arabic  jargon  of  Soudan,  which  the  shekb 
and  some  of  his  men  spoke  tolerably  well,  so  that  I  could  un- 
derstand the  most  of  what  was  said.  "  Why  don't  you  bring 


834  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

the  Sultan's  carpet  that  he  may  rest  ? "  said  the  shekh  to  one 
of  my  sailors.  The  carpet  and  pillows  were  imme  liately 
brought,  and  I  stretched  myself  out  in  front  of  the  shekh  and 
vizier,  who  sat  upon  a  fallen  tree,  while  the  others  squatted 
upon  the  ground.  The  shekh  at  first  took  no  part  in  the  con- 
versation, but  sat  looking  at  me  steadily,  from  under  his  heavy 
eyebrows.  Our  negotiations  were  conducted  in  genuine  diplo- 
matic style.  .  Whenever  His  Majesty  of  the  Shillooks  had  any 
thing  to  say,  he  mentioned  it  to  his  vizier,  who  addressed  Ach- 
met,  my  vizier,  who  communicated  it  to  me,  the  Sultan.  The 
spectators  observed  the  most  profound  silence,  and  nothing 
could  surpass  the  gravity  and  solemnity  of  the  scene. 

In  the  mean  time  the  other  warriors  had  come  up  and  taken 
their  seats  around  us,  each  one  greeting  me  before  he  sat  down, 
with  "  ow-wow-wobba  /"  (probably  a  corruption  of  the  Arabic 
' mar-habba ? "  "how  d'ye  do?")  The  vizier,  addressing  me 
through  Achmet,  said :  "  Tell  us  what  you  want ;  if  you  come 
to  fight,  we  are  ready  for  you."  I  assured  the  shekh  through 
him  that  I  came  as  a  friend,  and  had  no  intention  of  molesting 
them,  but  he  was  not  satisfied,  and  repeated  three  or  four 
times,  drawing  a  mark  between  us  on  the  ground  :  "  if  you  are 
really  friends,  we  will  be  friends  with  you ;  but  if  you  are  not, 
we  are  ready  to  fight  you."  Achmet  at  last  swore  by  the  Pro- 
phet Mohammed,  and  by  the  wisdom  of  Allah,  that  we  had  come 
in  peace ;  that  the  Sultan  wished  to  pay  him  a  visit,  and  would 
then  return  home.  At  the  request  of  the  rais  we  had  come  on 
shore  unarmed,  but  it  had  not  the  anticipated  eflect  "  Why 
have  you  no  arms  9  "  said  the  shekh  ;  "  are  you  afraid  of  us  ?  " 
I  told  him  that  it  was  in  order  to  show  that  I  had  HD  hostile 
ntentions,  but  the  people  seemed  to  consider  it  as  mark  of 


THE    ROBE    OF    HONOR.  335 

either  treachery  or  fear.  I  brought  some  tobacco  with  me 
which  I  gave  to  the  shekh,  but  he  received  it  coldly,  and  said 
"  Where  is  the  dress  which  the  Sultan  has  brought  for  me  ? ' 
This  reminded  me  that  I  had  entirely  neglected  to  provide 
myself  in  Khartoum  with  muslin  and  calico,  for  presents.  I 
remedied  the  deficiency,  however,  by  going  on  board  and  taking 
one  of  my  shirts  and  a  silk  handkerchief,  as  well  as  some  beads 
and  ear-rings  for  the  wives  of  the  two  dignitaries.  Achmet 
added  a  shirt  and  a  pair  of  Turkish  drawers,  and  brought  a 
fresh  supply  of  tobacco  for  the  warriors.  The  shekh  took  the 
presents  with  evident  gratification,  and  then  came  the  work  of 
clothing  him.  He  was  entirely  at  a  loss  how  to  put  on  the 
garments,  but  Achmet  and  the  rais  unwound  the  cotton  cloth 
from  his  loins,  stuck  his  legs  into  the  drawers,  his  arms  into 
the  shirt-sleeves,  and  tied  the  handkerchief  about  his  head. 
Once  clothed,  he  gave  no  more  attention  to  his  garments,  but 
wore  them  with  as  much  nonchalance  as  if  he  had  never  pos- 
sessed a  scantier  costume.  The  vizier,  who  had  shown  mani- 
fest ill-humor  at  being  passed  by,  was  quieted  by  the  present 
of  a  shirt,  which  was  put  upon  his  shoulders  in  like  manner 
He  gave  me  his  name  as  Adjeb-Seedoo  ("  He  pleases  his  Mas- 
ter"), a  most  appropriate  name  for  a  vizier.  The  shekh's 
name,  Abd-en-noor  ("the  Slave  of  Light"),  was  hardly  so 
befitting,  for  he  was  remarkably  dark.  I  was  much  amused  at 
my  servant  Ali,  who  had  shown  great  terror  on  the  first  ap- 
pearance of  the  savages.  He  had  already  become  so  familiar, 
that  when  the  shekh  did  not  seem  to  understand  the  use  of 
the  beads  and  ear-rings,  Ali  pinched  his  ears  very  significantly 
%nd  took  hold  of  his  neck  to  show  how  they  must  be  worn. 
By  this  time  coffee  had  been  prepared  and  was  brought  t* 


336  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

them.  But  they  had  been  so  accustomed  to  inhumanity  and 
deception  on  the  part  of  the  Turks,  that  they  still  mistrusted 
UB  and  no  one  would  drink,  for  fear  that  it  contained  poison 
To  quiet  them,  therefore,  I  drank  a  cup  first,  after  which  thej 
took  it  readily,  but  many  of  them,  who  then  tasted  coffee  for 
the  first  time,  did  not  seem  to  relish  it.  A  drove  of  sheep 
happening  to  pass  by,  the  shekh  ordered  one  of  the  rams  to  be 
caught  and  put  on  board  the  vessel,  for  the  Sultan's  dinner. 
The  men  soon  began  to  demand  tobacco,  clothes,  and  various 
other  things,  and  grew  so  importunate  that  Achmet  became 
alarmed,  and  even  the  rais,  who  was  a  man  of  some  courage, 
seemed  a  little  uneasy.  I  thought  it  time  to  give  a  change  to 
affairs,  and  therefore  rose  and  told  the  shekh  I  was  ready  to 
visit  his  village.  We  had  intended  returning  on  board  and 
sailing  to  the  place,  which  was  at  the  southern  extremity  of 
the  island,  about  a  mile  distant,  but  reflecting  that  this  might 
occasion  mistrust,  and  that  the  best  way  of  avoiding  danger  is 
to  appear  unconscious  of  it,  I  called  Achmet  and  the  rais  to 
accompany  me  on  foot.  While  these  things  were  transpiring, 
a  number  of  other  Shillooks  had  arrived,  so  that  there  were 
now  upwards  of  fifty.  All  were  armed — the  most  of  them 
with  iron-pointed  spears,  some  with  clubs,  and  some  with  long 
poles,  having  knobs  of  hard  wood  on  the  end.  They  were  all 
tall,  strong,  stately  people,  not  more  than  two  or  three  under 
six  feet  in  height,  while  the  most  of  them  were  three  or  four 
inches  over  that  standard.  Some  had  a  piece  of  rough  cotton 
oloth  tied  around  the  waist  or  thrown  over  the  shoulders,  but 
the  most  of  them  were  entirely  naked.  Their  figures  were 
large  and  muscular,  but  not  symmetrical,  nor  was  there  the 
least  grace  in  their  movements.  Their  faces  resembled  a  cros* 


APPEARANCE    OF    THE    SHILLOOK8.  38? 

between  the  Negro  of  Guinea  and  the  North  American  In- 
dian, having  the  high  cheek  bones,  the  narrow  forehead  and 
pointed  head  of  the  latter,  with  the  flat  nose  and  projecting 
iips  of  the  former.  Their  teeth  were  so  long  as  to  appear  like 
tusks,  and  in  most  of  them  one  or  two  front  teeth  were  wait- 
ing, which  gave  their  faces  a  wolfish  expression.  Their  eye4 
were  small  and  had  an  inflamed  look,  which  might  have  beeu 
occasioned  by  the  damp  exhalations  of  the  soil  on  which  they 
slept.  Every  one  wore  an  armlet  above  the  elbow,  either  a 
segment  of  an  elephant's  tusk,  or  a  thick  ring  of  plaited  hippo- 
potamus hide.  The  most  of  them  had  a  string  of  glass  beads 
around  the  neck,  and  the  shekh  wore  a  necklace  of  the  large 
white  variety,  called  "  pigeon  eggs "  by  the  traders  on  the 
White  Nile.  They  had  no  beards,  and  their  hair  was  seared 
or  plucked  out  on  the  forehead  and  temples,  leaving  only  a 
circular  crown  of  crisp  wool  on  the  top  of  the  head.  Some 
had  rubbed  their  faces  and  heads  with  red  ashes,  which  impart- 
ed a  livid,  ghastly  effect  to  their  black  skins. 

The  shekh  marched  ahead,  in  his  white  garments  and  flut- 
tering head-dress,  followed  by  the  warriors,  each  carrying  his 
long  spear  erect  in  his  hand.  We  walked  in  the  midst  of 
them,  and  I  was  so  careful  to  avoid  all  appearance  of  fear  that 
I  never  once  looked  behind,  to  see  whether  the  vessel  was  fol- 
lowing us.  A  violent  dispute  arose  among  some  of  the  men  in 
front,  and  from  their  frequent  glances  towards  us,  it  was  evi- 
dent that  we  were  in  some  way  connected  with  the  conversa- 
tion. I  did  not  feel  quite  at  ease  till  the  matter  was  referred 
to-  the  shekh,  who  decided  it  in  a  way  that  silenced  the  men,  if 
it  did  not  satisfy  them.  As  we  approached  the  village,  good- 
humor  was  restored,  and  their  demeanor  towards  us  was 
15 


838  JOFRNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

thenceforth  more  friendly.  They  looked  at  me  witn  curiodty 
but  without  ill-will,  and  I  could  see  that  my  dress  interested 
them  much  more  than  my  person.  Finally  we  reached  the 
village,  which  contained  about  one  hundred  tokuls  of  straw, 
built  in  a  circular  form,  with  conical  roofs.  They  were  arrang- 
ed so  as  to  inclose  a  space  in  the  centre,  which  was  evidently 
intended  as  a  fold  for  their  sheep,  as  it  was  further  protected 
by  a  fence  of  thorns.  Guards  were  stationed  at  intervals  of 
about  twenty  yards,  along  the  side  fronting  the  river,  each 
leaning  back  against  his  spear,  with  one  of  his  legs  drawn  up, 
so  that  the  foot  rested  against  the  opposite  knee.  At  the 
principal  entrance  of  the  village,  opposite  which  I  counted 
twenty-seven  canoes  drawn  up  against  the  shore,  we  made  halt, 
and  the  sbekh  ordered  a  seat  to  be  brought.  An  angareb,  the 
frame  of  which  was  covered  with  a  net-work  of  hippopotamus 
thongs,  was  placed  in  the  shade  of  a  majestic  mimosa  tree,  and 
the  shekh  and  I  took  our  seats.  Another  angareb  was  brought 
and  placed  behind  us,  for  our  respective  viziers.  The  warriors 
all  laid  aside  their  spears  and  sat  on  the  ground,  forming  a 
semicircle  in  front  of  us.  A  swarm  of  naked  boys,  from  eighl 
to  twelve  years  of  age,  crept  dodging  behind  the  trees  till  they 
reached  a  convenient  place  in  the  rear,  where  they  watched  me 
curiously,  but  drew  back  in  alarm  whenever  I  turned  my  head. 
The  village  was  entirely  deserted  of  its  inhabitants,  every  one 
having  come  to  behold  the  strange  Sultan.  The  females  kept 
at  a  distance  at  first,  but  gradually  a  few  were  so  far  overcome 
by  their  curiosity  that  they  approached  near  enough  for  me  to 
observe  them  closely.  They  were  nude,  except  a  small  piece 
of  sheepskin  around  the  loins,  and  in  their  forms  were  not  very 
easy  to  distinguish  from  th )  men,  having  flat,  masculine  breastj 


SCENE    AT    THE    VILLAGE.  839 

and  narrow  hips.  They  were  from  five  feet  eight  inches  to  six 
feet  in  height.  The  rais  informed  ine  that  the  Shillooks  fre- 
quently sell  their  women  and  children,  and  that  a  boy  or  girl 
can  be  bought  for  about  twenty  measures  of  dourra. 

After  undergoing  their  inspection  half  an  hour,  I  began  to 
get  tired  of  sitting  in  state,  and  had  my  pipe  brought  from  the 
boat.  I  saw  by  an  occasional  sidelong  glance  that  the  shekh 
watched  me,  but  I  smoked  carelessly  until  the  tobacco  waa 
finished.  Some  of  the  men  were  already  regaling  themselves 
with  that  which  I  had  given  them.  They  had  pipes  with  im- 
mense globular  bowls  of  clay,  short,  thick  stems  of  reed,  and 
mouth-pieces  made  of  a  variety  of  wild  gourd,  with  a  long, 
pointed  neck.  A  handful  of  tobacco  was  placed  in  the  bowl 
and  two  or  three  coals  laid  upon  it,  after  which  the  orifice  was 
closed  with  clay.  The  vizier,  Adjeb-Seedoo,  who  had  some- 
thing of  the  Yankee  in  his  angular  features  and  the  shrewd 
wrinkles  about  the  corners  of  the  eyes,  chewed  the  tobacco  and 
squirted  out  the  saliva  between  his  teeth  in  the  true  Down- 
East  style.  I  bargained  for  his  pipe  at  two  piastres,  and  one 
of  the  ivory  arm-rings  at  five,  but  as  I  had  no  small  silver 
money  (the  only  coin  current  among  them),  did  not  succeed  in 
getting  the  former  article.  I  obtained,  however,  two  of  the 
arm-rings  of  hippopotamus  hide.  While  these  things  were  go- 
ing on,  the  shekh  who  had  been  observing  me  closely,  saw  the 
?hain  of  my  watch,  which  he  seized.  I  took  out  the  watch 
and  held  it  to  his  ear.  He  started  back  in  surprise,  and  told 
the  men  what  he  had  heard,  imitating  its  sound  in  a  most 
amusing  manner.  They  all  crowded  around  to  listen,  and 
from  their  looks  and  signs  seemed  to  think  the  case  contained 
gome  bird  or  ins°ct.  I  therefore  opened  it,  and  showed  thenf 


340  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

the  motion  of  the  balance-wheel  and  of  the  hand  on  the  sinalJei 
dial  of  the  face.  Their  astonishment  was  now  changed  to  awe 
and  they  looked  at  it  silently,  without  daring  to  touch  it. 

I  profited  by  this  impression  to  make  a  move  for  starting, 
before  their  greed  for  presents  should  grow  into  a  resolve  t<t 
lob  us  by  force.  I  had  asked  the  shekh  two  or  three  times  to 
have  a  cup  of  water  brought  for  me,  but  he  seemed  to  pay  no 
attention  to  the  request.  Soon,  however,  one  of  the  men 
brought  a  large  earthen  jar,  stopped  with  clay,  and  placed  it 
at  my  feet.  Thereupon  the  shekh  turned  to  me,  saying : 
"  There  is  plenty  of  water  in  the  river,  and  here  I  give  you 
honey  to  mix  with  it."  The  jar  was  taken  on  board,  and  con 
tained,  in  fact,  nearly  a  gallon  of  wild  honey,  which  had  a  rich, 
aromatic  taste,  like  the  odor  of  the  mimosa  flowers.  The  trad- 
ing-vessels on  the  White  Nile  purchase  this  honey,  but  as  the 
natives,  in  their  hatred  of  the  Turks,  frequently  mix  with  it 
the  juice  of  poisonous  plants,  they  are  obliged  to  taste  it  them- 
selves before  they  can  sell  it.  I  did  not  require  this  proof  at 
their  hands,  preferring  to  trust  them  unreservedly,  at  least  in 
my  demeanor.  Trust  always  begets  a  kindred  trust,  and  I 
am  quite  sure  that  my  safety  among  those  savages  was  owing 
to  my  having  adopted  this  course  of  conduct. 

I  went  on  board  to  get  the  money  for  the  arm-rings,  and 
after  Achmet  had  paid  the  men,  directed  him  and  the  rais  to 
return.  Several  of  the  Shillooks  followed,  offering  articles  for 
jale,  and  the  vizier,  who  had  waded  out,  holding  up  his  new 
•hirt  so  that  it  might  not  be  wet,  climbed  upon  the  gunwale 
of  the  boat  and  peered  into  the  cabin.  I  changed  my  position 
BO  as  to  stand  between  him  and  the  door,  gave  him  two  onions 
which  ha  saw  on  deck  and  had  an  appetite  for,  and  hurried 


THE  SCLTAN'S  BLACK  WIFE.  341 

him  away.  The  shekh  and  all  the  warriors  had  come  duwn  to 
the  shore,  but  without  their  spears,  and  were  seated  on  the 
ground,  holding  a  consultation.  By  this  time,  however,  the 
rais  was  at  the  helm,  and  the  sailors  had  begun  to  shove  the 
bow  of  my  boat  into  the  stream.  I  called  out :  "  0  Shekh 
Abd-eu-uoor  1 "  iu  a  familiar  way,  and  waved  my  hand  as  a 
token  of  parting.  He  rose,  returned  the  salute,  made  a  ges- 
ture to  his  men,  and  they  all  went  slowly  back  to  the  village, 
As  we  were  leaving,  the  sailors  informed  me  that  one  of  the 
Shillooks,  who  had  come  down  to  the  boat  while  I  was  seated 
with  the  shekh  on  shore,  took  a  fancy  to  the  fat  black  slave 
who  cooks  for  them,  and  expressed  his  determination  to  take 
her.  They  told  him  she  was  one  of  the  Sultan's  wives,  and 
that  as  His  Majesty  was  now  the  shekh's  friend,  he  dare  not 
touch  her.  "  Oh,"  said  the  Shillook,  "  if  she  is  the  Sultan's 
wife,  that  is  enough ;"  and  he  immediately  returned  to  the 
shore.  I  forgave  the  impertinence  of  the  sailors  in  passing  off 
such  a  hideous  creature  as  one  of  my  wives,  in  consideration 
of  the  adroitness  with  which  they  avoided  what  might  have 
been  a  serious  difficulty. 

The  Shillooks  have  not  the  appearance  of  men  who  are 
naturally  malicious.  The  selfish  impudence  with  wnich  they 
demand  presents,  is  common  to  all  savage  tribes.  But  the 
Turks  and  even  the  European  merchants  who  take  part  in  the 
annual  trading  expeditions  up  the  river,  have  dealt  with  them 
in  such  a  shameful  manner  that  they  are  now  mistrustful  of  all 
Btrangers,  and  hence  it  is  unsafe  to  venture  among  them.  I 
tttribute  the  friendly  character  of  my  interview  with  them  as 
much  to  good  luck  as  to  good  management.  The  rais  after- 
wards informed  me  that  if  the  shekh  had  not  been  satisfied 


842  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

with  the  dress  I  gave  him,  he  would  certainly  have  attempted 
to  plunder  the  vessel  He  stated  that  the  Shillooks  are  in  the 
habit  of  going  down  the  river  as  far  as  the  country  of  the  Has- 
saniyehs,  sinking  their  boats  and  concealing  themselves  in  the 
woods  in  the  day-time,  while  by  night  they  venture  into  the 
villages  and  rob  the  people  of  their  dourra,  for  which  they 
have  a  great  fondness.  They  cultivate  nothing  themselves, 
and  their  only  employment  is  the  chase  of  the  elephant,  hippo- 
potamus and  other  wild  beasts.  All  the  region  east  of  the 
river  abounds  with  herds  of  elephants  and  giraffes,  but  I  was 
not  fortunate  enough  to  get  sight  of  them. 

Here  is  the  true  land  of  the  lotus,  and  the  Shillooks,  if  not 
the  lotophagoi  of  the  Greeks,  are,  with  the  exception  of  the 
Chinese,  the  only  modern  eaters  of  the  plant.  I  was  too  late 
to  see  it  in  blossom,  and  there  were  but  few  specimens  of  it 
among  these  islands ;  but  not  far  beyond  Aba  it  appears  in 
great  profusion,  and  both  the  seeds  and  roots  are  eaten  by  the 
natives.  Dr.  Knoblecher,  who  ate  it  frequently  during  his 
voyage,  informed  me  that  the  root  resembles  the  potato  in  con- 
sistence and  taste,  with  a  strong  flavor  of  celery.  These 
islands  are  inhabited  only  by  the  hunters  and  fishers  of  the 
tribe,  wuo  abandon  them  in  summer,  when  they  are  complete- 
ly covered  by  the  inundation.  At  lat.  12°,  or  about  thirty 
miles  south  of  Aba,  both  banks  of  the  river  are  cultivated,  and 
thence,  for  upwards  of  two  hundred  miles,  the  villages  are 
jrowdod  so  close  to  each  other  all  along  the  shores,  that  tl  .ey 
almost  form  two  continuous  towns,  fronting  each  other.  This 
part  of  the  White  Nile  is  the  most  thickly  populated  region  in 
Africa,  and  perhaps  in  the  world,  China  alone  excepted.  The 
number  of  the  Shillooks  is  estimated  at  between  two  and  three 
millions,  or  equal  to  the  population  of  all  Egypt. 


THE   TURrING    POINT.  843 

As  wo  weighed  anchor,  I  found  that  the  men  had  taker 
down  both  sails  and  shipped  the  oars  for  our  return  to  Khar- 
toum. AVe  had  reached  the  southern  point  of  the  island,  in 
about  lat.  12°  30'  north,  and  the  north-wind  was  still  blowing 
strongly.  The  rounded  tops  of  the  mimosa  forests  bent  south- 
ward as  thoy  tossed ;  the  flowery  arms  of  the  ambak-trees 
waved  to  the  south,  trailing  against  the  current,  and  my  heart 
sank  within  me  at  the  thought  of  retracing  my  steps.  We 
had  sailed  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  forty-eight  hours ; 
the  gateway  to  the  unknown  South  was  open,  and  it  seemed  a 
treason  against  Fortune  to  turn  my  face  towards  the  Mediter- 
ranean. "  Achmet ! "  said  I,  "  tell  the  men  to  set  the  trin- 
keet  again.  We  will  sail  to  the  Bahrel-Ghazal."  The  Theban's 
face  became  ghastly  at  the  bare  idea.  "  0  Master  !"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  are  you  not  satisfied  with  your  good  fortune  ?  We 
are  now  nearly  at  the  end  of  the  earth,  and  if  we  go  further,  it 
will  be  impossible  to  return."  Rais  Abou-Harnmed  declared 
that  he  had  kept  his  word,  and  that  he  should  now  return,  aa 
it  had  been  agreed,  before  we  left  Khartoum.  I  knew  there 
•vas  certain  danger  in  going  further,  and  that  I  had  no  right  to 
'iolate  my  agreement  and  peril  others  as  well  as  myself;  but 
•here  lay  the  great  river,  holding  in  his  lap,  to  tempt  me  on, 
.ales  of  brighter  bloom  and  spreading  out  shores  of  yet  richer 
foliage.  I  was  in  the  centre  of  the  Continent.  Beyond  me 
all  was  strange  and  unknown,  and  the  Gulf  of  Guinea  was  less 
distant  than  the  Mediterranean,  which  I  left  not  three  months 
before.  Why  not  push  on  and  attempt  to  grasp  the  Central 
African  secret  ?  The  fact  that  stronger,  braver  and  bolder 
men  had  failed,  was  one  lure  the  more.  Happily  for  me,  per- 
haps, my  object  on  commencing  the  voyage  had  been  rest  ani 


344  JOTTRNBT   TO    CEKTRAL    AFRICA. 

recreation,  not  exploration.  Had  I  been  provided  with  the 
necessary  means  and  scientific  appliances  for  making  such  an 
attempt  useful,  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  turn  back  at 
hat  point. 

I  climbed  to  the  mast-head  and  looked  to  the  south,  where 
the  forest  archipelago,  divided  by  glittering  reaches  of  water, 
wove  its  labyrinth  in  the  distance.  I  thought  I  saw — but  it 
may  have  been  fancy — beyond  the  leafy  crown  of  the  farthest 
isles,  the  faint  blue  horizon  of  that  sea  of  water  and  grass, 
where  the  palm  again  appears  and  the  lotus  fringes  the  shores. 
A  few  hours  of  the  strong  north-wind,  now  blowing  in  our 
faces,  would  have  taken  me  there,  but  I  gave  myself  up  to 
Fate  and  a  pipe,  which  latter  immediately  suggested  to  me 
that  though  I  was  leaving  the  gorgeous  heart  of  Africa,  I  was 
going  back  to  Civilization  and  Home. 


BXPiOKATIONB    OF    THE    WHITE    NILE.  345 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

THE      WH  I  T  E      NILE 


Explorations  of  the  'White  Nile—  Dr.  Knoblecher's  Voyage  in  1849-6v>—  T.ie 

of  the  Shillooks  and  Uinkiw  —  Intercourse  with  the  Natives  —  Wild  Elephants  and 
Giraffes—  The  Sobat  Kiver—  The  Country  of  Marshes—  The  Gazelle  Lake—  Th« 
Nuehrs  —  Interview  with  the  Chief  of  the  Kyks—  The  Zhlr  Country  —  Land  of  th« 
Baris—  The  Rapids  Surmounted—  Arrival  at  Logwek,  In  Lat.  4°  10'  North  -  Panora- 
ma from  Mt.  Logwek  —  Sources  of  the  White  Nile—  Character  of  tho  B«ri  Nation- 
Return  of  the  Expedition  —  Fascination  of  the  Nile. 

LET  me  here  pause  a  moment,  at  the  turning-point  of  my  jour 
ney,  and  cast  a  glance  up  the  grand  and  wonderful  vista  which 
the  White  Nile  opened  to  my  view.  The  exploration  of  this 
river  within  the  last  fifteen  years  constitutes  the  most  interest- 
ing chapter  in  the  annals  of  African  Discovery.  It  has  been 
ascended  to  lat.  4°  north,  eight  degrees  of  latitude,  or  four 
hundred  and  eighty  geographical  miles  —  and  at  least  eight 
hundred  miles,  following  the  course  of  the  stream  —  beyond  the 
island  of  Aba.  Of  the  Europeans  who  at  different  times  ac- 
companied the  exploring  fleets  of  Mohammed  A15  or  the  an- 
nual trading  expeditions,  three  kept  journals  and  made  scien- 
tific observations,  and  two  —  D'Arnaud  and  Werne  —  have  pub 
'ished  accounts  of  the  voyage.  Werue's  book,  however,  u 


840  JGCRNZf    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

taken  up  with  peevish  comments  on  the  conduct  of  D'Arnaud 
and  Sabatier,  and  the  report  of  the  former,  as  I  learned  from 
Dr.  Knoblecher  himself,  is  incorrect  in  many  particulars 
The  most  satisfactory  account  is  that  of  Dr.  Knoblecher,  who 
ascended  about  fifty  miles  beyond  the  point  reached  by  pre- 
vious expeditions.  During  my  stay  in  Khartoum,  I  received 
from  him  full  particulars  of  his  adventures,  and  was  allowed 
to  inspect  his  journals  and  sketch-books.  His  reports  are  ex- 
ceedingly  curious  and  interesting,  and  I  herewith  present  a 
brief  outline  of  them. 

Dr.  Knoblecher  was  specially  educated,  in  the  Propaganda 
at  Rome,  as  a  missionary  for  Central  Africa.  After  studying 
the  Arabic  language  for  a  year  in  Syria,  he  proceeded  to 
Khartoum,  where  a  Catholic  Mission  had  already  been  estab- 
lished. There,  however,  the  Mission  found  its  sphere  of  ope- 
rations circumscribed  by  the  jealousy  of  the  government,  as  all 
attempts  to  make  proselytes  of  Mussulmen  are  forbidden,  and 
the  highest  ambition  of  the  slaves  who  are  brought  from  the 
interior  is  to  be  considered  faithful  followers  of  the  Prophet. 
Dr.  Knoblecher  was  therefore  directed  to  accompany  the  an- 
nual trading  expedition  up  the  White  Nile,  for  the  purpose  of 
ascertaining  the  practicability  of  establishing  a  missionary  sta- 
tion among  some  of  the  native  negro  tribes  near  the  Equator 
He  experienced  much  difficulty  at  the  outset,  on  account  of  the 
jealousy  of  the  Egyptian  traders,  who  find  the  company  of  a 
European  a  restraint  upon  their  violent  and  lawless  practices, 
but  through  the  influence  of  the  Pasha,  who  was  at  last 
brought  to  give  his  consent,  the  missionaries  secured  a  place  in 
the  expedition  and  on  the  13th  of  November,  1849,  set  sail 
from  Khartoum  There  were  seven  vessels  in  the  flotilla,  and 


THE     LAND    OF    TI1K     hOTt'S.  34V 

that  of  Dr.  Knoblecher,  though  the  smallest,  proved  to  be  thu 
best  sailer  and  usually  kept  the  lead.     He  had  011  board  a 
faithful  and  experienced  Nubian  pilot,  named  Suleyman  Abou- , 
Zeid. 

After  fourteen  days'  sailing,  the  expedition  passed  the 
islands  of  the  Shillooks  and  reached  that  part  of  the  river 
where  the  banks  are  covered  with  continuous  villages.  The 
Dumber  of  these  is  estimated  at  seven  thousand.  It  is  worthy 
of  notice  that  their  circular  tokuls  of  mud  and  reeds  are  pre- 
cisely similar  in  form  and  construction  to  those  of  the  tribes 
on  the  Niger  and  Senegal  Rivers,  with  whom  the  Shillooks 
have  no  communication,  and  from  whom  they  differ  in  lan- 
guage, appearance  and  character.  While  threading  the  mazes 
>f  the  archipelago,  a  violent  whirlwind  passed  over  the  river 
wid  completely  dismasted  one  of  the  boats.  Beyond  the 
wlands  the  river  expands  so  that  the  marshy  shores  are  barely 
visible  in  some  places.  The  lotus  grows  abundantly  iu  the 
shallows,  and  the  appearance  of  the  thousands  of  snowy  blos- 
soms as  they  flash  open  at  sunrise,  is  described  as  a  scene  of 
vegetable  pomp  and  splendor,  which  can  be  witnessed  in  no 
other  part  of  the  world.  The  forests  of  sont  trees  which  covei 
the  islands  give  place  to  doum-palms  and  immense  tamarinds, 
and  beyond  lat.  10°,  in  the  land  of  the  Dinkas,  the  beautiful 
dhelleb-palm  is  first  seen.  It  has  a  tall,  graceful  trunk,  thick 
in  the  middle,  but  tapering  towards  the  top  and  bottom,  and  a 
rich  crown  of  large,  fan  like  leaves. 

On  the  twenty-eighth  of  November  the  expedition  succeeded, 
After  some  difficulty,  in  establishing  an  intercourse  with  the  Din- 
kas and  Shillooks,  who  inhabited  the  opposite  banks  of  the  river 
The  latter  in  consideration  of  some  colored  glass  beads,  fur- 


348  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

niahoJ  a  number  of  oxen  for  provisions.  Dr.  Knobleoher  de- 
•cribed  their  running,  when  they  drove  the  cattle  together,  as 
resembling  that  of  the  gazelle ;  they  leap  high  into  the  air, 
drawing  up  their  long  legs  as  they  rise,  and  clear  the  ground 
at  a  most  astonishing  speed.  The  nex*;  day  the  vessels  reach- 
ed a  large  town  called  Vav,  where  the  people  received  them 
without  the  least  appearance  of  fear,  and  brought  quantities  of 
elephants'  tusks  to  trade  for  beads.  Herds  of  wild  elephants 
and  giraffes  were  now  frequently  seen  on  the  banks  of  the  river, 
and  the  former  sometimes  threw  up  their  trunks  and  spirted 
water  into  the  air  when  they  saw  the  vessels.  Numbers  of 
white  herons  were  perched  composedly  upon  their  backs  and 
heads.  The  giraffes,  as  they  gazed  with  wonder  at  the  fleet, 
lifted  their  heads  quite  above  the  tops  of  the  mimosa  trees 
On  the  second  of  December,  the  expedition  passed  the  mouth 
of  the  Sobat  River,  the  only  tributary  stream  which  comes  to 
the  White  Nile  from  the  east.  Its  source  is  supposed  to  be  in 
the  country  of  the  Gallas,  south  of  the  kingdom  of  Shoa.  Its 
breadth,  at  its  entrance  into  the  Nile,  is  six  hundred  and  fifty 
feet.  Werne,  who  ascended  it  about  eighty  miles,  with  D'Ar- 
naud's  expedition,  states  that  its  shores  are  higher  than  those 
of  the  Nile,  and  that  the  surface  of  the  country  became  more 
elevated  as  he  ascended,  whence  he  infers  that  the  White  Nile, 
as  far  as  it  has  been  explored,  flows  in  a  depressed  basin  of  the 
table-land  of  Central  Africa. 

From  lat.  9°  '26'  to  6°  507  N.  there  is  a  complete  change  in 
the  scenery.  The  magnificent  forests  disappear,  and  the  shores 
become  marshy  and  unhealthy,  covered  with  tall  grass,  whose 
prickly  stalks  render  landing  difficult,  and  embarrass  the  navi 
gation  of  the  shallows.  The  air  is  heavy  with  noxious  mias 


THE  GAZELLE  LAKK THE  KVKS.  349 

mas  and  filled  with  countless  swarms  of  gnats  and  mosqultoea 
The  water  of  the  river  is  partially  stagnant,  and  green  with 
vegetable  matter,  occasioning  serious  disorders  to  those  who 
drink  it  Dr.  Kuoblecher  clarified  it  by  means  of  alum,  and 
escaped  with  a  sore  mouth.  In  order  to  sleep,  however,  he 
was  obliged  to  wear  thick  gloves  and  muffle  up  his  face,  almost 
to  suffocation.  The  Bohr  el-Ghaz«l,  or  Gazelle  Lake,  lies  in 
lat.  9°  16'  N.  It  is  thus  named  from  the  Gazelle  River,  which 
flows  into  it  on  the  western  side,  and  which  has  never  yet  been 
explored.  Its  depth  is  about  nine  feet,  but  the  reeds  and 
water-plants  with  which  it  is  filled  reach  to  the  surface,  and 
render  the  navigation  difficult.  Its  shores  are  inhabited  by 
the  Nuehr  negroes,  a  stupid,  imbruted  race,  many  of  whom  are 
frequently  carried  off  by  the  traders  and  sold  as  slaves.  Foi 
this  reason  it  is  now  very  difficult  to  procure  elephants'  teeth 
from  them. 

After  leaving  the  Gazelle  Lake,  the  course  of  the  White 
Nile  becomes  exceedingly  tortuous,  and  its  current  sluggish. 
Innumerable  estuaries,  or  blind  channels,  which  lose  themselves 
among  the  reeds,  perplexed  the  pilots,  and  delayed  the  pro- 
gress of  the  expedition.  The  land  of  the  Kyks  succeeded  to 
that  of  the  Nuehrs,  which  terminated  about  the  .eighth  parallel 
of  latitude.  The  former  are  a  race  of  herdsmen,  who  have 
great  numbers  of  cattle  and  sheep.  Dr.  Knoblecher  founa 
them  exceedingly  shy,  on  account  of  the  threats  of  one  of 
their  kogiurs,  or  soothsayers,  who  had  warned  them  against 
holding  any  intercourse  with  the  traders.  On  the  twenty-sec- 
Dnd  of  December  they  reached  the  village  of  Angwen,  where 
the  King  of  the  Kyks  resided.  The  monarch  received  then 
jrith  great  kindness,  and  paid  distinguished  homage  to  Padrf 


850  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Angelo  Vinco,  Dr.  Knoblecher's  companion,  whom,  on  account 
of  his  spectacles  and  gray  beard,  he  took  to  be  a  magician 
He  begged  the  Padre  to  grant  him  four  favors,  viz : — abun- 
dance of  children ;  the  death  of  the  enemy  who  had  slain  hia 
father ;  victory  in  all  his  fights,  and  a  cure  for  the  wound  iu 
his  head.  The  latter  gift  was  easily  bestowed,  by  means  of  a 
plaster,  but  he  was  not  satisfied  until  an  image  of  the  Virgin 
had  been  hung  around  his  neck. 

South  of  the  Kyks  dwell  the  Elliabs,  who  are  less  timid 
than  the  southern  tribes,  because  they  come  less  frequently  in- 
to contact  with  the  traders.  In  their  country  the  White  Nile 
divides  into  two  branches,  and  here  the  expedition  separated, 
each  division  taking  a  different  channel.  The  water  was  so  low 
that  the  vessels  stuck  fast  in  the  mud,  but  were  relieved  by  the 
friendly  natives,  who  dragged  them  through  the  shallows  by 
means  of  long  tow-ropes.  For  this  service  they  were  paid  in 
glass  beads.  The  further  the  vessels  went  into  regions  where 
intercourse  with  the  Egyptian  traders  is  rare,  and  therefore 
fewer  outrages  are  perpetrated,  the  more  friendly,  confiding 
and  unconcerned  was  the  behavior  of  the  natives. 

On  the  thirty-first  of  December  the  expedition  reached  the 
country  of  the  Zhirs.  The  people  came  down  to  the  water's 
edge  to  greet  them,  the  women  clapping  their  hands  and  sing- 
ing a  song  of  welcome.  On  the  second  of  January,  1850,  Dr. 
Knoblecher  saw  in  the  south-east  the  granite  mountain  of 
Nierkanyi,  which  lies  in  the  Bari  country,  in  about  the  fifth 
degree  of  north  latitude.  It  was  the  first  elevation  he  had 
seen  since  leaving  Djcbel  Defafangh,  in  the  country  of  the 
Dinkas,  in  lat.  10°  35'.  All  the  intervening  space  is  a  vast 
navanuah,  interspersed  with  reedy  swamps  of  stagnant  water 


THE    BARI    COUNTRY.  851 

The  Zhire  own  numerous  flocks  and  herds,  and  cultivate  large 
fields  of  sesame  and  dourra.  They  are  very  superior  to  the 
Nuehrs  and  Kyks  in  stature,  symmetry  of  form  and  their  man- 
aers  toward  strangers.  In  all  these  tribes,  the  men  go  entire- 
ly naked,  while  the  women  wear  a  narrow  girdle  of  sheepskin 
around  the  loins.  Dr.  Knoblecher,  however,  confirmed  the 
statement  of  Werne  as  to  the  modesty  of  their  demeanor  and 
the  evident  morality  of  their  domestic  life. 

After  leaving  the  Zhirs  the  expedition  entered  the  country 
of  the  Baris,  and  on  the  fourteenth  of  January  reached  the 
rapids  of  the  White  Nile,  at  the  island  of  Tsanker,  in  4°  49'  N. 
This  was  the  farthest  point  reached  by  all  previous  expeditions, 
as  they  found  it  impossible  to  advance  further  with  their  ves- 
sels. The  Nubian  pilot,  Suleyman  Abou-Zeid,  determined  to 
make  the  attempt,  and  on  the  following  day,  aided  by  a  strong 
north-wind,  stemmed  the  rapid  and  reached  the  broad,  lake-like 
expanse  of  river  above  it.  Continuing  his  voyage,  Dr.  Knoblech- 
er sailed  sixteen  miles  further,  to  the  Bari  village  of  Tokiman. 
The  country  was  exceedingly  rich  and  beautiful,  abounding  in 
trees,  and  densely  peopled.  The  current  of  the  river  was  more 
rapid,  its  waters  purer,  and  the  air  seemed  to  have  entirely  lost 
the  depressing  miasmatic  exhalations  of  the  regions  further 
north.  The  inhabitants  of  Tokiman  showed  great  astonish- 
ment at  the  sight  of  the  vessels  and  their  white  occupants 
Nothing,  however,  affected  them  so  much  as  the  tones  of  a  har- 
monica, played  by  Dr.  Knoblecher.  Many  of  the  people  shed 
tears  of  delight,  and  the  chief  offered  the  sovereignty  of  his 
tribe  in  exchange  for  the  wonderful  instrument. 

On  the  sixteenth,  the  expedition  reached  the  village  of 
Logwek,  which  takes  its  name  from  a  solitary  granite  peak, 


862  JOURNET   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

about  six  hundred  feet  high,  which  stands  on  the  left  bank  oi 
the  Nile.  It  is  in  lat.  4°  10'  N.,  and  this  is  the  moat  southern 
point  which  has  yet  been  reached  on  the  White  Nile.  Dr. 
Knoblecher  ascended  the  mountain,  which  commanded  a  view 
of  almost  the  entire  Bari  country.  Towards  the  south-west 
the  river  wound  out  of  sight  between  the  mountains  Rego  aud 
Kidi,  near  which  is  the  mountain  of  Kereg,  containing  rich 
iron  mines  which  are  worked  by  the  natives.  Towards  the 
south,  on  the  very  verge  of  the  horizon,  rose  a  long  range  of 
hills,  whose  forms  could  not  be  observed  with  exactness,  owing 
to  the  great  distance.  Beyond  the  Logwaya  range,  which  ap- 
peared in  the  east,  dwell  the  Berri  tribes,  whose  language  is 
distinct  from  the  Baris,  and  who  are  neighbors  of  the  Gallas — 
that  warlike  race,  whose  domain  extends  from  Abyssinia  to  the 
wilds  of  Mozambique,  along  the  great  central  plateau  of  Unia- 
mesi.  The  natives  of  Logwek  knew  nothing  whatever  of  the 
country  to  the  south.  The  farthest  mountain-range  was  prob- 
ably under  the  parallel  of  lat.  3°  N.,  so  that  the  White  Nile 
has  now  been  traced  nearly  to  the  Equator.  At  Logwek,  it 
was  about  six  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide,  and  from  five  to 
eight  feet  deep,  at  the  time  of  Dr.  Knoblecher's  visit,  which 
was  during  the  dry  season.  Such  an  abundance  of  water 
allows  us  to  estimate  with  tolerable  certainty  the  distance  to 
'its  unknown  sources,  which  must  undoubtedly  lie  beyond  the 
Equator. 

The  great  snow  mountain  of  Kilimandjaro,  discovered  in 
1850  by  Dr.  Krapf,  the  German  missionary,  on  his  journey 
inland  from  Mombas,  on  the  coast  of  Zanzibar,  has  been  loca- 
ted by  geographers  in  lat.  3°  S.  It  is  therefore  most  probabla 
ihat  the  source  of  the  White  Nile  will  be  found  in  the  range 


THK    SOURCE    OF   THE    WHITK    NILK.  353 

of  mountains,  of  which  Kilimandjaroi  is  the  crowning  apex, 
The  geographer  Berghaus,  in  a  long  and  labored  article,  en- 
deavors to  prove  that  the  Gazelle  River  is  the  true  Nile,  and 
makes  it  rise  in  the  great  lake  N'Yassi,  in  lat.  13°  S.  Dr. 
Knoblecher,  however,  who  examined  the  Bahr  el-Ghazal  at  its 
mouth,  says  it  is  an  unimportant  stream,  with  a  scarcely  per- 
ceptible current.  He  considers  the  White  Nile  as  being,  be 
yond  all  question,  the  true  river.  He  also  informed  me,  that, 
while  at  Logwek,  some  of  the  natives  spoke  of  people  white 
like  himself,  who  lived  far  towards  the  south.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve iu  the  fable  of  a  white  civilized  race  in  the  interior  of 
Africa,  and  consider  this  rather  as  referring  to  the  Portuguese 
settlements  on  the  coast  of  the  Indian  Ocean,  reports  of  which 
would  readily  be  carried  inland,  from  one  tribe  to  another. 
Dr.  Knoblecher  is  of  the  opinion  that  no  exploring  expedition 
from  Khartoum  will  be  successful ;  that  the  traveller  must  first 
stop  in  the  Bari  country  long  enough  to  gain  some  knowledge 
of  its  people,  and  then,  with  a  company  of  the  natives  as  his 
attendants,  make  that  his  starting  point. 

The  shortness  of  Dr.  Knoblecher's  stay  among  the  Baris 
did  not  permit  him  to  obtain  much  information  concerning 
them.  They  appeared  to  be  worshippers  of  trees,  like  the 
Dinkas  and  Shillooks,  but  to  have  a  glimmering  idea  of  the 
future  existence  of  the  soul  They  are  brave  and  fearless  in 
their  demeanor,  yet  cheerful,  good-natured  and  affectionate 
towards  each  other.  Werne  frequently  observed  the  men 
walking  along  the  shore  with  their  arms  around  each  other's 
aecka  They  are  even  more  colossal  in  their  stature  than  the 
Shillooks,  many  of  them  reaching  a  height  of  seven  feet. 
Their  forms  are  well-knit,  symmetrical,  and  indicate  greai 


854  JMURNEY    TO    CKNTIIA1,    AFRICA. 

strength  and  activity.  In  smelting  and  working  up  the  iroa 
ore  of  Mount  Kereg  they  show  a  remarkable  sktll.  Many  of 
the  spears  in  Dr.  Knoblecher's  possession  are  as  elegantly 
formed  and  as  admirably  tempered  as  if  they  had  come  from 
the  hands,  of  a  European  blacksmith.  They  also  have  war- 
clubs  of  ebony,  which  are  nearly  as  hard  and  heavy  as  iron, 
One  end  is  of  a  sloping,  oval  form,  and  the  other  sharp,  and 
they  are  said  to  throw  them  a  distance  of  fifty  or  a  hundred 
yards  with  such  precision  that  the  sharp  point  strikes  first  and 
tne  club  passes  through  the  body  like  a  lance  I  have  in  my 
possession  some  of  these  clubs,  which  were  presented  to  me  by 
Dr.  Knoblecher.. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  January  the  expedition  left  Logwek 
on  its  return  to  Khartoum,  the  traders  having  procured  all  the 
ivory  which  the  natives  had  collected  since  the  previous  year. 
The  Missionaries  were  prevented  from  accomplishing  their  ob- 
ject by  the  jealousy  of  the  traders,  who  persuaded  the  Bari 
chiefs  that  they  were  magicians,  and  that  if  they  were  allowed 
to  remain,  they  would  bewitch  the  country,  prevent  the  rains 
from  falling  and  destroy  the  crops  of  dourra.  In  consequence 
of  these  reports  the  chiefs  and  people,  who  had  been  on  the 
most  friendly  terms  with  Dr.  Knoblecher  and  Padre  Angelo, 
suddenly  became  shy  and  suspicious,  and  refused  to  allow  the 
latter  to  take  up  their  residence  among  them.  The  design  of 
the  mission  was  thus  frustrated,  and  the  Vicar  returned  with 
the  expedition  to  Khaitouin.  He  designed  leaving  for  the 
Bari  country  in  November,  1 852,  but  up  to  the  present  mo- 
ment* no  account  has  been  received  of  the  tulfihnentof  his  plans. 

The  pictures  which  these  recent  explorations  present  to  UB, 

•July,  1854. 


THE    FASCINATION    OF    THE    NILE.  36$ 

add  to  the  stately  and  sublime  associations  with  which  the 
Nile  is  invested,  and  that  miraculous  flood  will  lose  nothing  of 
his  interest  when  the  mystery  which  veils  his  origin  shall  be 
finally  dispelled.  Although  in  standing  upon  the  threshold 
of  his  vast  central  realms,  I  felt  that  I  had  realized  a  portion 
of  my  dream,  I  could  not  turn  away  from  the  vision  of  those 
untrodden  solitudes,  crowned  by  the  flashing  snows  of  Kili 
raandjaro,  the  monarch  of  African  mountains,  without  a  keen 
pang  of  regret.  Since  Columbus  first  looked  upon  San  Sal- 
vador, the  Earth  has  but  one  emotion  of  triumph  left  in  her 
bestowal — and  that  she  reserves  for  him  who  shall  first  drink 
from  the  fountain?  of  the  White  Nile,  under  the  snow-fields 
of  Kiliniandjaro 


350  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AF1UOA- 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

HE       HASSANIYEH       ARABS. 

We  leave  the  Islands  of  the  Shillooks— Tropical  Jungles— A  Whim  and  it*  Conseqn« 
ces  -L«Jr»  of  Wild  Beasts — Arrival  among  the  Hassan'.yeliS — A  Village — The  Wo- 
man and  the  Sultan — A  Dance  of  Salutation— My  Arab  Sailor— A  Swarthy  Cleopa 
tra — Salutation  of  the  Saint — Miraculous  Fishing — Night  View  of  a  Hassaniyeh  Vtl 
lage—  Wad  Shcllayeh—  A  Shckh's  Residence— An  Ebony  Cherub— The  Cook  At 
tempts  Suicide — Evening  Landscape— The  Natives  and  their  Cattle — A  Boyisl 
Governor— We  reach  Khartoum  at  Midnight 

AFTER  we  parted  from  the  Shillooks  the  men  rowed  lustily, 
and,  taking  to  the  western  side  of  the  river,  soon  put  an  island 
Between  us  and  the  village.  It  was  about  two  o'clock  when 
we  left,  and  the  wind  fell  sufficiently  before  night  to  allow 
them  to  make  considerable  progress.  We  swept  along,  under 
the  lee  of  the  islands,  brushing  the  starry  showers  of  yellow 
blossoms  that  trailed  in  the  water,  and  frightening  the  ibises 
and  herons  from  their  coverts  among  the  reeds.  The  hippo- 
potami snorted  all  around  us,  and  we  had  always  a  convoy  of 
them  following  in  our  wake.  The  sun  sank,  and  a  moon,  four 
days  old,  lighted  the  solitude  of  the  islands,  but  the  men  still 
rowed  vigorously,  until  we  had  passed  the  spot  where  the  Shil- 
looks  buried  their  canoes  in  the  morning.  They  then  deemed 


A    reOPICAL    JUNOLR.  9& 

it  safe  to  come  to  anchor  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  though 
the  watch-fires  of  the  savages  were  still  blazing  brightly  in  the 
distance.  During  the  night  the  wind  blew  violently,  and  the 
rirer  was  rough  and  agitated.  We  all  went  to  sleep,  therefore, 
feeling  certain  that  no  predatory  canoes  would  venture  to  fol- 
low us. 

In  the  morning  there  was  a  strong  head-wind,  and  the  tem- 
perature was  so  cold  that  I  was  obliged  to  wear  my  thick  ca- 
pote of  camel's  hair  while  I  sat  on  deck,  looking  regretfully  at 
the  beautiful  islands  I  was  leaving  behind  me.  Achmet  heat- 
ed and  strained  the  honey  given  me  by  the  Shillooks,  which 
yielded  between  three  and  four  quarts  of  rich  liquid.  While 
the  men  made  fast  to  the  bank  for  breakfast,  I  went  on  shore 
to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  country  behind  the  forests.  Paths 
trodden  by  wild  beasts  led  through  the  walk  of  tangled  vines 
that  elsewhere  were  impenetrable,  and  I  crept  along  them, 
under  the  boughs  of  strange  trees  and  through  thickets  of  lux- 
uriant shrubs.  At  length  I  reached  an  open  patch  of  grass 
four  or  five  feet  in  height,  and  so  dry  and  yellow  that  it  snap- 
ped like  glass  under  my  feet.  It  was  dotted  with  clumps  of 
high  shrubs,  knotted  all  over  with  wild,  flowering  vines,  which 
formed  admirable  lairs  for  the  lions  and  leopards.  There  was 
a  strong  smell  of  lions  about  the  place,  and  I  deemed  it  pru- 
dent not  to  venture  far,  since  the  rank  animal  odor  peculiar  to 
that  beast  grew  more  marked  the  further  I  went.  The  jungle 
in  which  I  stood  covered  a  tongue  of  land  inclosed  between  two 
oaves  of  the  river,  and  through  the  openings  in  the  thickets  I 
saw  that  it  led  to  other  open  tracts  further  inland.  The  wind 
was  blowing  towards  the  river,  and  as  I  stood  in  the  midst, 
contemplating  the  wild,  lawless  grouping  of  the  different  tree* 


358  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

and  shrubs  some   imp   of  darkness   whispered   in  my  ear 
"  What  a  magnificent  conflagration  this  would  make  1  and  then, 
perhaps,  you  might  have  the  satisfaction  of  burning  out  a  bracti 
of  lions  1"     Without  more  ado,  I  whipped  out  a  box  of  match- 
es, and  struck  fire  in  one  of  the  thickest  tufts. 

The  effect  was  instantaneous,  and  so  was  my  repentance, 
There  was  a  crack  and  a  crash,  like  the  explosion  of  powder 
and  a  sheet  of  red  flame  leaped  into  the  air.  In  a  few  seconds 
it  had  spread  to  a  broad  swath  of  fire,  rolling  rapidly  before 
the  wind,  and  leaving  the  earth  behind  it  as  bare  as  the  palm 
of  my  hand.  The  rank  grass  roared  and  snapped  as  the  terri- 
ble power  I  had  so  thoughtlessly  awakened,  licked  it  away ; 
and  not  the  grass  alone.  It  seized  on  the  vines  and  tore  them 
down,  swung  itself  by  them  into  the  boughs  of  the  trees,  and 
found  richer  aliment  in  their  gums  and  juices.  It  spread  on 
both  sides  and  against  the  wind,  and  soon  the  long  spires  of 
scarlet  flame,  twisting  in  the  air,  rose  high  and  hot  above  the 
dome- like  tops  of  the  mimosa  forests.  Before  we  left  the 
place,  the  volumes  of  smoke  reached  nearly  to  the  other  side 
of  the  Nile.  As  I  heard  its  relentless  feet  trampling  down 
the  thickets,  I  tormented  myself  with  pictures  of  the  evil 
which  I  had  perhaps  originated.  I  fancied  it  spreading  from 
day  to  day,  lapping  the  woods  in  coils  of  flame  and  flinging 
their  burning  boughs  from  island  to  island,  till  of  all  the  glory 
of  vegetation  which  had  filled  me  with  such  rapture,  there  was 
nothing  but  a  few  charred  trunks  standing  in  beds  of  ashea 
1  saw  the  natives  with  their  flocks  and  herds  flying  before  it, 
the  wild  beasts  leaping  into  the  flood  for  refuge  from  its  red 
fangs,  and  all  that  glorious  region  given  up  to  terror  and  deso- 
lation. As  we  moved  slowly  away,  against  the  wind,  I  watch- 


THE    CONFLAGRATION.  35S 

ed  its  progress  with  a  troubled  conscience  and  an  anxiocu 
heart.  Now  it  paused  and  I  flattered  myself  that  there  was 
the  end  but  the  next  moment  the  black  clouds  rolled  up 
denser  than  ever.  Thus  it  wavered  for  some  time,  but  at  last, 
thank  God  !  it  seemed  to  fade  gradually  away,  and  I  gave  my 
self  the  hope  that  it  had  not  extended  beyond  the  jut  of  land 
•whereon  it  was  kindled. 

At  noon  we  passed  the  locality  marked  on  D'Arnaud's  map 
as  El-Ais,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  habitation.  The  raTs  said 
there  had  been  a  town  some  distance  inland,  but  it  is  now  de 
serted.  The  river  here  makes  a  curve  to%  the  west,  arid  oui 
small  stern-sail  was  bound  to  the  foremast,  in  order  to  use  the 
side-wind.  My  sailors  were  unremitting  in  their  labors,  and 
rowed,  poled  and  tracked  the  whole  day.  I  sat  in  the  sun  all 
the  while,  looking  on  the  incomparable  shores.  We  saw  mul- 
titudes of  gazelles  along  the  water's  edge,  on  both  sides. 
They  were  in  companies  of  forty  or  fifty,  and  so  little  shy, 
that  they  often  allowed  us  to  approach  within  fifty  yards. 
Wild  fowl  were  as  abundant  as  ever,  and  I  greatly  regretted 
having  brought  no  rifle  and  fowling-piece.  When  we  reached 
tlit'  northern  extremity  of  Hassaniyeh,  at  sunset,  I  went  ashore 
on  the  eastern  bank,  hoping  to  find  a  gazelle.  The  thickets 
were  almost  impenetrable,  and  I  made  my  way  with  difficulty 
into  a  more  open  space,  where  the  trees  grew  in  clumps  and 
the  lion-paths  had  broken  a  way  between  them.  Each  of  these 
clumps  was  woven  into  a  single  mass  with  vines,  forming  x>v 
erts  of  deepest  shade,  wherein  a  beast  might  crouch  unobserv- 
ed, even  at  mid-day.  The  ground  was  covered  with  dry  bur- 
grass,  whose  heads  pierced  through  my  clothes.  One  of  the 
sailors  accompanied  me  with  a  club,  but  was  in  such  doadlj 


860  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

fear  of  lions  that  he  obliged  me  to  return  to  the  shore.  Cer- 
tainly, this  is  the  paradise  of  wild  beasts.  Such  convenient 
lairs  they  can  find  in  no  other  part  of  the  world,  and  the  thou- 
sands of  gazelles  and  antelopes  that  range  through  the  wilder- 
ness furnish  them  with  a  choice  bill  of  fare.  The  trees  and 
vines  were  nearly  all  new  to  me.  I  noticed  in  particular,  a 
succulent  vine,  resembling  the  cactus  and  cereus  families,  but 
with  square,  fluted  joints.  It  grew  so  thickly  as  frequently  to 
conceal  entirely  the  tree  that  supported  it  I  also  saw  a 
shrub  with  leaves  like  the  ivy,  but  a  large,  purple,  bell-shaped 
dower,  and  anothe^  with  delicate,  fern-like  leaves  of  a  dark- 
green  color,  and  white,  fragrant  blossoms.  There  was  a 
greater  variety  in  the  vegetable  world  than  I  had  yet  seen. 
What  must  be  the  splendor  of  the  land  during  the  rainy  sea- 
son !  I  found  a  peculiar  fascination  in  tracing  the  wild  paths 
through  the  thickets.  It  was  a  labyrinth  to  which  there  was 
no  end,  and  the  sense  of  danger  gave  a  spice  to  its  richness 
and  novelty.  Occasionally,  I  saw  large  holes  in  the  ground, 
which  my  attendant  said  were  those  of  serpents.  No  gazelk 
tfas  to  be  seen,  and  when  I  reached  the  shore  again,  the  wild 
geese  had  left.  The  wind  fell  at  sunset,  and  the  sailors  rowed 
cheerily  down  stream,  singing  the  while  a  barbaric  chorus, 
which  they  had  learned  from  the  slaves  brought  from  Fazogl. 

The  sun,  next  morning,  showed  us  a  very  different  land- 
scape from  that  of  the  previous  two  days.  The  river  waa 
broader,  but  the  shores  were  clothed  with  a  more  scanty  vege- 
tation, and  the  few  islands  in  the  stream  were  but  beds  of  sand. 
When  the  men  stopped  for  breakfast  we  were  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  a  village  of  Hassaniyehs,  as  I  had  previously  conjec- 
tured, from  the  camels  and  donkeys  grazing  among  the  thorna 


VISIT    TO    A    HASSAN  I YEI1    VILLAGE.  36) 

Leaving  the  sailors  to  kill  one  of  our  sheep,  I  took  Achmei 
and  the  rais,  and  followed  the  paths  inland  through  a  wood  of 
scattering  mimosas.  After  a  walk  of  ten  minutes  we  came  to 
the  village,  or  rather  encampment,  since  the  dwellings  were 
mere  tents  of  sticks  and  reeds.  They  were  barely  large  enough 
to  cover  the  two  or  three  angarebs,  which  served  as  a  bed  for 
the  whole  family.  Although  the  sun  was  an  hour  high,  not 
more  than  half  the  inhabitants  were  stirring.  The  others, 
men  and  women,  thrust  their  heads  from  under  their  dirty  cot- 
ton mantles  and  looked  at  us  with  astonishment  not  unmixed 
with  fear.  The  women  who  had  already  risen  sat  on  the 
ground  kindling  the  fires, -or  spinning  with  a  rude  distaff  the 
raw  cotton  which  these  people  cultivate.  We  found  two  or 
three  men,  whom  we  saluted  with  the  usual  "  Peace  be  with 
you  !"  and  the  rais  informed  them  that  the  Sultan's  son,  re- 
turning from  a  visit  to  the  Shillooks,  with  whom  he  had  made 
a  treaty  of  peace,  had  come  to  see  them.  Thereupon  one  of 
them  brought  an  angareb  and  uafc  it  in  the  shade  for  me,  while 
another  caught  a  she-goat  that  w  ai.  browsing  among  the  bushes, 
and  soon  returned  with  a  gourd  h.ili  full  of  warm  milk,  which 
he  gave  me.  As  sour  milk  is  eousidered  a  great  delicacy 
among  these  people,  a  gourd  of  it  was  also  procured  for  me. 
The  woman  who  brought  it  knelt  aLd  placed  it  at  my  feet,  but 
as  I  could  not  drink  it  and  did  not  wish  to  refuse  their  gift,  I 
asked  one  of  the  men  to  take  it  to  the  boat.  He  hesitated, 
evidently  afraid  to  trust  himself  with  us,  \yhereupon  the  wo- 
man said  :  "  I  am  not  afraid  to  go  with  the  £?ultat\ ;  I  will 
take  it."  As  we  started  to  return,  the  man,  whose  sense  of 
bravery,  and  perhaps  his  jealousy  also,  was  touched  Lj  this  re- 
mark came  likewise  and  accompanied  us  to  the  rivor. 
16 


362  JOURNEY  TO  CENTRAL  AFRICA. 

we  reached  the  vessel  I  sent  the  milk  on  board  for  the  sailors 
use,  and  gave  the  woman  two  piastres  in  copper  money  and  a 
handful  of  tobacco.  She  immediately  put  her  hand  to  her 
mouth  and  uttered  a  piercing,  prolonged  cry.  which  the  rai'fl 
said  was  intended  as  an  expression  of  great  joy.  After  repeat 
ing  this  two  or  three  times  she  dropped  on  her  knees,  and  be- 
fore I  could  divine  her  intention,  kissed  my  red  slipper. 

In  a  short  time  I  received  word  that  the  women  of  the 
village  would  come  to  perform  a  dance  of  welcome  and  saluta- 
tion, if  I  would  allow  them.  As  the  wind  was  blowing  strong- 
ly against  us  and  the  sailors  had  not  finished  skinning  the 
sheep,  I  had  my  carpet  spread  on  the  sand  in  the  shade  of  a 
group  of  mimosas,  arid  awaited  their  arrival.  Presently  we 
heard  a  sound  of  shrill  singing  and  the  clapping  of  hands  in 
measured  beat,  and  discerned  the  procession  advancing  slowly 
through  the  trees.  They  came  two  by  two,  nearly  thirty  in 
all,  singing  a  shrill,  piercing  chorus,  which  sounded  more  like 
lamentation  than  greeting.  When  they  had  arrived  in  front 
of  me,  they  ranged  themselves  into  a  semicircle  with  their 
faces  towards  me,  and,  still  clapping  their  hands  to  mark  the 
rhythm  of  the  song,  she  who  stood  in  the  centre  stepped  forth, 
with  her  breast  heaved  almost  to  a  level  with  her  face,  which 
was  thrown  back,  and  advanced  with  a  slow,  undulating  motion 
till  she  had  reached  the  edge  of  my  carpet.  Then,  with  a 
quick  jerk,  she  reversed  the  curve  of  her  body,  throwing  her 
head  forward  and  downward,  so  that  the  multitude  of  her  long 
twists  of  black  hair,  shining  with  butter,  brushed  my  cap 
This  was  intended  as  a  salutation  and  sign  of  welcome.  1 
bowed  my  head  at  the  same  time,  and  she  went  back  to  he* 
place  in  the  ranks.  After  a  pause  the  chorus  was  resumed  and 


THE    DANCE    OF    SALUTATION.  863 

another  advanced,  and  so  in  succession,  till  all  had  saluted  me_ 
a  ceremony  which  occupied  an  hour.  They  were  nearly  all 
young,  between  tlie  ages  of  fourteen  and  twenty,  and  some 
were  strikingly  beautiful.  They  had  the  dark-olive  Arab 
complexion,  with  regular  features,  teeth  of  pearly  whiteness, 
and  black,  brilliant  eyes.  The  coarse  cotton  robe  thrown  over 
one  shoulder  left  free  the  arms,  neck  and  breasts,  which  were 
exquisitely  moulded.  Their  bare  feet  and  ankles  were  as  slen- 
der as  those  of  the  Venus  of  Cleouienes.  Owing  to  the  skirts 
worn  by  the  American  women  I  have  no  recollection  of  ever 
having  seen  an  entire  foot  belonging  to  them,  and  therefore 
can  make  no  comparison ;  but  I  doubt  if  one  in  a  thousand 
stands  on  so  light  and  beautiful  a  pedestal  as  those  wild  Afri- 
can girls.  There  were  two  or  three  old  women  in  the  com- 
pany, but  they  contented  themselves  with  singing  and  did  not 
venture  into  the  lists  with  the  younger  ones. 

Several  of  the  men,  who  had  followed  in  the  rear  ?f  the 
women,  came  and  sat  near  us,  on  the  sand.  They  were  all  evi- 
dently delighted  with  the  occasion,  and  encouraged  the  more 
timid  of  the  dancers  by  their  words.  One  of  them  was  an  old 
man,  with  a  long  gray  moustache  and  beard,  carrying  in  hia 
hand  a  spear,  pointed  with  iron.  My  rais  and  sailors  were  on 
the  ground,  and  one  of  the  latter,  a  splendid  fellow,  whose 
form  was  almost  perfect  in  its  manly  strength,  took  his  station 
among  the  women  and  acted  as  master  of  the  ceremonies.  He 
drew  a  line  in  the  sand  down  the  centre  of  the  ring,  and 
another  along  the  edge  of  my  carpet,  and  she  who  did  not 
dance  down  the  line  until  the  final  toss  of  her  head  threw  her 
hair  over  the  Sultan's  cap,  was  obliged  to  perform  her  part 
>ver  again.  My  sailor  clapped  his  hands,  joined  in  the  song, 


864  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

and  moved  with  such  entire  and  absolute  grace  in  the  dance, 
that  he  almost  drew  away  my  attention  from  the  women.  He 
was  of  the  Djaaleyn  tribe,  and  therefore  of  pure  Arabian 
blood.  As  the  ceremony  was  prolonged,  they  accompanied  the 
dance  with  a  hard,  guttural  breathing,  in  time  with  the  music, 
and  some  of  the  old  women,  in  their  anxiety  to  encourage  the 
younger  and  more  timid  dancerr,  leaned  forward  with  eager 
eyes,  uttering  short,  quick  screams  at  intervals.  It  was  a 
most  remarkable  scene ;  the  figures  and  the  dancers  were  un- 
like any  thing  I  ever  witnessed.  For  the  first  time,  in  fact — 
perhaps  because  I  had  hitherto  seen  few  women  unveiled — I 
found  undoubted  beauty  in  the  Arab  female  countenance. 

The  last  dancer  was  the  wife  of  the  Shekh,  who  came  to- 
wards the  close,  with  two  negro  slaves  behind  her.  She  was  a 
woman  of  twenty,  and  the  most  beautiful  of  the  group.  Mak- 
ing allowance  for  the  difference  in  complexion,  she  had  a  strong 
resemblance  to  the  Cleopatra  of  Guido.  Her  eyes  were  large, 
black  and  lustrous ;  her  face  the  full,  ripe  oval  of  the  South, 
with  a  broad,  round  forehead,  perfect  lips  and  a  most  queenly 
neck  and  chin.  She  wore  a  diadem  of  white  beads,  under 
which  her  thick  hair — unfortunately  plastered  with  butter  - 
hung  to  her  shoulders  in  at  least  fifty  slender  braids.  She 
went  through  the  monotonous  movement  of  the  dance  with  the 
stately  ease  of  a  swan  gliding  down  a  stream,  and  so  delighted 
my  bailors  and  the  men  who  had  come  down  from  the  village, 
that  she  was  obliged  to  repeat  her  salutation  several  times.  I 
bowed  lower  to  her  than  to  the  others,  but  took  care  to  keep 
der  unctuous  braids  from  touching  my  face.  When  all  was 
concluded,  I  directed  Achmet  to  distribute  a  few  handfuls  of 
copper  money  among  them,  whereupon  they  returned  to  the 


A    8A1NT MIRACULOUS    FISHING.  365 

village,  uttering  sharp  yells  of  joy  as  they  went.  After  they 
had  left,  I  asked  the  men  whether  what  I  had  heard  in  Khar* 
touni,  concerning  the  peculiar  conjugal  customs  of  the  tribe, 
was  true,  and  they  replied  that  it  was. 

As  we  were  about  leaving,  one  of  the  shekhs,  or  holy  men 
of  the  tribe,  came  down  to  greet  me.  He  was  an  old  man  in  a 
blue  cotton  mantle,  and  had  with  him  two  attendants.  After 
touching  my  hand  twice  and  asking  many  times  for  my  health, 
he  commenced  singing  passages  of  the  Koran,  in  a  loud,  reso- 
nant, and  not  unmusical  tone,  somewhat  resembling  the  subset 
cry  of  the  muezzin  from  his  minaret.  The  two  others  respon^ 
ed,  and  thus  this  religious  entertainment  was  kept  up  for  some 
time.  But  the  rais  was  at  his  post  and  the  wind  had  fallen, 
so  I  acted  my  despotic  character  of  Sultan,  by  leaving  the  holy 
man  in  the  midst  of  his  chanting  and  going  on  board.  When 
we  left  he  was  still  standing  under  the  mimosas,  singing  of 
Mohammed,  the  Prophet  of  God. 

We  made  but  little  headway  during  the  afternoon,  al- 
though the  men  worked  faithfully.  Djebel  Deyoos,  whose 
loose  cluster  of  peaks  is  seen  for  a  great  distance  over  the 
plains  of  Kordofan,  still  kept  us  company,  and  did  not  pass  out 
of  our  horizon  until  the  next  evening.  The  men  towed  for 
several  hours,  and  as  the  shore  was  flat  and  the  river  very 
shallow  they  were  obliged  to  walk  in  the  water.  While  Ach 
met  was  preparing  dinner,  a  fish  about  the  size  of  a  herring 
vaulted  upon  deck  and  fell  at  his  feet  He  immediately  clap- 
ped it  into  the  frying-pan  and  presented  me  with  an  acceptable 
dish.  To  his  unbounded  astonishment  and  my  great  satisfac- 
tion, the  same  thing  happened  three  days  in  succession,  at  pre- 
aisely  the  same  hour.  "  Wallah,  master!"  he  exclaimed:  "ii 


366  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

is  wonderful!  I  never  knew  such  a  thing  to  happen  in  Egypt, 
and  it  must  certainly  be  a  sign  of  good  fortune.  If  you  were 
not  a  lucky  man,  the  fish  would  never  offer  themselves  for  yom 
dinner  in  this  way." 

By  night  the  men  could  make  no  headway  against  the  wind, 
which  continued  unabated  nearly  all  the  next  day.  They 
worked  hard,  stimulated  by  the  promise  of  an  abundant  supply 
of  mareesa  at  the  next  Hassaniyeh  village.  In  the  afternoon 
we  passed  Tura,  which  I  recognized  by  the  herds  of  camels  on 
shore  and  the  ferry-boats  passing  back  and  forth  across  the 
broad  stream.  I  walked  an  hour  or  two  while  the  men  were 
towing,  but  was  obliged  to  keep  to  the  shore,  on  account  of  the 
burr-grass  which  covered  all  the  country  inland.  This  part  of 
the  river  is  thickly  settled  by  the  Hassaniyehs,  whose  principal 
wealth  appears  to  consist  in  their  sheep,  goats  and  camels. 
They  complained  very  much  of  the  Shillooks,  who  come  down 
the  river  on  predatory  incursions,  carry  off  their  sheep  and 
dourra,  and  frequently  kill  the  children  who  tend  the  herds. 

By  dint  of  unremitting  exertions,  we  reached  a  small  vil- 
lage which  the  rais  called  Wad  Shellayeh,  about  two  hours 
after  sunset.  The  men  carried  me  ashore  through  the  shallows, 
and  I  went  with  them  to  the  village  to  perform  my  promise 
regarding  the  mareesa.  We  extinguished  the  lantern  for  fear  of 
alarming  the  inhabitants,  and  walked  slowly  through  the  wil- 
derness of  thorns.  The  village  lay  half  a  mile  inland,  between 
two  low  hills  of  sand.  The  dwellings  were  mere  tokuls,  like 
'Jbose  of  the  Shillooks,  and  made  of  the  long  grass  of  the  Des- 
ert. Each  house  was  surrounded  with  a  fence  of  thorns.  The 
inhabitants  were  sitting  at  the  doors  in  the  moonlight,  calling 
aut  to  each  other  and  exchanging  jokes,  while  herds  of  the 


WAD    8HKLLAYKH.  867 

Blender  yellow  dogs  of  Soudan  barked  on  all  sides.  Whil« 
the  raVs  and  sailors  were  procuring  their  mareesa  I  entered 
one  of  the  tokuls,  which  was  superior  to  those  I  had  ulreadj 
seen,  inasmuch  as  it  contained  an  inner  chamber  or  tent,  made 
of  fine  yellow  grass,  and  serving  as  a  canopy  to  the  family  an- 
gareb.  The  people  had  kindled  a  fire  on  the  ground,  and  the 
dry  mimosa  branches  were  blazing  in  close  proximity  to  the 
straw  walls  of  their  dwelling.  They  were  greatly  inferior  to  the 
Hassaniyehs  of  the  first  village,  both  in  appearance  and  cour- 
tesy of  manners.  The  mareesa,  which  the  rais  at  last  brought, 
was  weak,  insipid  stuff,  and  I  returned  to  the  boat,  leaving  the 
men  to  drain  the  jars. 

In  the  morning  we  reached  another  large  Hassaniyeh  vil 
lage.  which  was  also  called  Wad  ShMlayeh.  It  was  the  only 
village  on  the  river  worthy  of  notice,  as  it  had  four  vessels 
moored  to  the  shore,  and  boasted  a  few  mud  houses  in  addition 
to  its  array  of  tokuls.  Several  of  the  latter  were  built  in  tent 
form  and  covered  with  a  striped  cloth  made  of  camel's  hair.  I 
entered  the  residence  of  the  shekh,  who,  however,  was  absent 
with  his  wife  to  attend  the  funeral  of  a  relative.  The  tent 
was  thirty  feet  long,  with  an  arched  top,  and  contained  two 
inner  chambers.  The  sides  were  ornamented  with  gourds, 
skins  and  other  articles,  grouped  with  some  taste,  and  large 
quantities  of  the  coteries,  or  small  white  shells,  which  are  used 
as  currency  in  some  parts  of  Central  Africa,  were  sewed  upon 
the  cloth  cover,  in  the  form  of  crosses  and  stars.  I  looked 
into  the  principal  chamber,  which  inclosed  a  broad  and  hand- 
some angareb,  made  of  plaited  palm-leaves.  The  walls  were 
entirely  concealed  by  the  articles  hung  upon  them,  and  every 
thing  exhibited  a  taste  and  neatness  which  is  rare  among  the 


868  JOCRNBT   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Arab  tribes.  The  tent  was  in  charge  of  the  shekh's  niece,  a 
handsome  girl  of  about  eighteen,  and  an  old  woman  with  three 
children,  the  youngest  of  which  was  suckled  by  a  black  slavfl 
He  was  an  ebony  Cupid  of  a  year  old,  rejoicing  in  the  bunches 
of  white  shells  that  hung  from  his  neck,  wrists  and  ankles. 
He  exhibited  a  curiosity  to  touch  me  and  I  took  him  in  my 
arms  and  addressed  him  in  Christian  nursery  tongue.  The 
sound  of  my  voice,  however,  was  more  horrible  than  the  color 
of  my  skin.  He  set  up  a  yell  and  kicked  out  his  little  black 
satin-skinned  legs  till  I  was  obliged  to  hand  him  over  to  the 
slave  nurse. 

From  the  bank  on  which  the  village  is  built,  I  could  see 
beyond  the  trees  of  the  opposite  shore,  a  wide  stretch  of  the 
plains  of  Kordofan — a  level  savanna  of  yellow  grass,  extending 
without  a  break  to  the  horizon.  During  the  afternoon,  while 
the  men  were  resting  from  their  rowing,  Bahr,  the  Dinka  cook, 
got  into  a  dispute  with  one  of  them,  and  finally  worked  herself 
into  such  a  rage  that  she  jumped  overboard  with  the  intention 
of  drowning  herself,  and  would  have  done  so,  had  not  one  of 
the  sailors  plunged  after  her  and  hauled  her  ashore,  in  spite  of 
her  violent  struggles  and  endeavors  to  thrust  her  head  under 
water.  When  she  found  she  could  not  indulge  in  this  recrea- 
tion, she  sat  down  on  the  ground,  burst  into  a  paroxysm  of 
angry  tears,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  went  back  to  grind 
her  dourra,  in  the  best  possible  humor.  Her  name,  Bahr,  sig- 
nifies "  the  sea,"  but  she  was  an  Undine  of  the  Black  Sea;  and 
the  White  Nile  refused  to  receive  her. 

We  went  gloriously  down  stream  that  evening,  with  a  light 
west  wind  filling  the  little  sail  and  the  men  at  their  oars,  sing. 
ing  shrill  choruses  in  the  Dongolese  and  Djaaleyn  dialects. 


BANKS    OF    THE    WHITE    NILB.  8flft 

Tne  White  Nile,  which  is  hero  three  miles  broad,  was  aa 
smooth  as  glass,  and  glimmered  far  and  bright  under  the  moon. 
The  shores  were  still,  in  all  their  dead  level  expanse,  and  had 
i*.  not  been  for  the  uneven  line  which  their  belts  of  thorn-trees 
drew  along  the  horizon,  I  could  have  imagined  that  we  were 
floating  in  mid-ocean.  While  the  men  halted  for  breakfast  the 
next  morning,  I  landed  and  walked  ahead,  hoping  to  shoot  a 
wild  duck  with  my  pistol.  Notwithstanding  there  were  hun- 
dreds along  the  shore,  I  found  it  impossible  to  get  within 
shooting  distance,  as  they  invariably  made  into  the  river  on 
my  approach.  An  attempt  to  gain  something  by  running  sud- 
denly towards  them,  terminated  in  my  sticking  fast  in  the 
mud  and  losing  my  red  slippers.  I  then  crept  through  the 
scattering  wood  of  mimosas  to  get  a  chance  at  a  pigeon,  but 
some  spirit  of  mistrust  had  taken  possession  of  the  birds,  and 
as  long  as  I  had  a  shot  left  there  were  none  within  reach. 
When  my  two  barrels  were  spent  they  sat  on  every  side  in  the 
most  familiar  proximity. 

Notwithstanding  there  were  very  few  villages  on  the  river's 
bank,  the  country  was  thickly  inhabited.  The  people  prefer 
building  their  dwellings  a  mile  inland,  and  going  to  the  river 
for  water.  This  custom  probably  originated  in  their  fear  of  the 
Shillooks,  which  led  them  to  place  their  dwellings  in  situations 
most  easy  of  defence.  At  one  of  the  fording-places  I  found  a 
number  of  women  and  children  filling  the  water-skins  and  lift- 
ing them  upon  the  backs  of  donkeys.  Many  hundreds  of  the 
hump-backed  cattle,  peculiar  to  the  country,  were  collected 
along  the  shore.  They  have  straight  backs  behind  the  hump, 
(which  is  a  projection  above  the  shoulders,  four  to  six  inches 
nigh)  clean  flanks,  large,  powerful  necks,  »nd  short,  straight 
16* 


370  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

horns.  They  eyed  me  with  an  expression  of  great  curiosity 
and  some  of  the  bulls  evidently  deliberated  whether  the 
should  attack  me.  The  people  in  this  region  were  Hassani- 
yehf  and  the  men  resembled  those  of  the  first  village  I  visit 
ed.  They  were  tall,  with  straight  features  and  a  feminine  ex- 
pression of  countenance,  which  was  probably  caused  by  theii 
wearing  their  hair  parted  in  the  middle,  plaited  into  long  braids 
and  fastened  at  the  back  of  the  head. 

About  noon  we  came  in  sight  of  Djebel  Tinneh,  which 
stands  over  against  the  village  of  Shekh  Moussa,  and  serves  as 
a  landmark  to  the  place.  At  sunset  we  saw  the  boat  of  Res- 
chid  Kashif,  the  Governor  of  the  tributary  territories  of  the 
White  Nile,  anchored  near  the  western  bank.  Two  of  my 
Bailors  had  previously  been  employed  by  him,  and  as  they  had 
not  received  all  their  wages,  they  asked  permission  to  cross  the 
river  and  apply  for  the  money.  This  Reschid  Kashif  was  a 
boy  of  twelve  or  thirteen  years  of  age,  son  of  the  former  Gov- 
ernor, Suleyman  Kashif,  who  was  so  much  esteemed  by  the 
tribes  on  the  river  that  after  his  death  the  Pasha  invested  his 
young  child  with  the  office.  The  latter  was  also  quite  popular 
with  the  natives,  who  attributed  to  him  a  sagacity  marvellous 
for  his  years.  He  paid  the  men  the  money  due  them,  sent  his 
compliments  to  me,  and  inquired  why  I  did  not  visit  him.  It 
was  dusk  by  this  time,  and  I  did  not  wish  to  delay  the  boat ; 
besides,  as  I  was  a  stranger  and  a  Sultan,  courtesy  required 
that  he  should  pay  the  first  visit. 

We  made  the  remainder  of  the  voyage  without  further  in- 
cident than  that  of  slaughtering  one  of  our  sheep,  near  Djebel 
Aullee.  The  wind  was  so  light  that  our  prcgress  down  th« 
stream  was  rapid,  and  at  sunset  on  Friday,  January  thirtieth, 


KHARTOUM    AT    MIDNIGHT.  1571 

1  recognized  the  spot  where  Dr.  Reitz  took  leave  of  me,  on  th« 
upward  voyage.  The  evening  on  the  broad  river  was  glorious; 
the  half-nioou,  being  just  overhead,  was  unseen,  yet  filled  th 
air  with  light,  and  my  natal  planet  burned  white  and  clear  ii 
the  west.  At  ten  o'clock  we  reached  the  island  of  Omdurman, 
|Hid  wheeled  into  the  Blue  Nile.  The  camp-fires  of  Kordofun 
merchants  were  gleaming  on  the  western  bank.  The  barking 
of  the  dogs  in  Khartoum  and  the  creaking  wheels  of  the  sakias 
were  welcome  sounds  to  our  ears,  as  we  slowly  glided  past  the 
gardens.  Ere  long,  the  minaret  of  the  city  glimmered  faintly 
in  the  moonlight  and  we  recognized  the  buildings  of  the  Catho- 
lic Mission.  "  God  is  great ! "  said  Achmet,  devoutly  ; 
"  since  we  have  been  so  near  the  end  of  the  world,  Khartoum 
appears  to  me  as  beautiful  as  Cairo."  It  was  nearly  midnight 
when  we  came  to  anchor,  having  made  a  voyage  of  about  five 
hundred  miles  in  nine  days.  My  friends  were  all  abed,  and  I 
lay  down  for  the  night  in  the  little  cabin  of  my  beat,  exclaim 
ing,  like  Achrnet ;  "  God  is  great !" 


372  JOTTRNKY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 


CHAPTER    XXIX 

INCIDENTS     OF     LIFE      IN     KHARTOUM. 

The  Departure  of  Abd-d  Kader  Bey — An  Illuminated  Plctnre — The  Breakfast  on  lu* 
Islend — Horsemanship— The  Pasha's  Stories — Departure  of  Lattif  Effendl's  Expedi- 
tion -A  Night  on  the  Sand — Abou-Sln,  and  his  Shukoree  Warriors — Change  in  th« 
Climate — Intense  Heat  and  its  Effects — Preparations  for  Returning— A  Money 
Trecssction— Farewell  Visits— A  Dinner  with  Eoyal  Quests— Jolly  King  Dyaab— 
A  Sbillook  Dance — Reconciliation— Taking  Leave  of  my  Pets. 

I  AROSE  at  sunrise,  and  leaving  Achraet  to  have  my  baggage 
removed,  walked  through  the  town  to  my  head-quarters  at  the 
Consular  residence.  I  found  Dr.  Reitz's  horses  saddled  in 
the  court,  and  himself  walking  in  the  garden.  He  was  greatly 
surprised  to  see  me,  not  having  expected  me  for  another  week. 
After  the  first  greetings  were  over,  he  informed  me  that  Abd- 
el  Kader  Bey,  the  Governor  of  Kordofan,  was  about  leaving 
for  Obeid,  and  his  friends  intended  to  accompany  him  as  far 
as  the  island  of  Moussa  Bey,  in  the  White  Nile.  During  my 
absence,  Mohammed  Kheyr  had  presented  Dr.  Reitz  with  a 
fine  Dougolese  horse,  which  he  offered  to  me,  that  I  might  par- 
ticipate in  the  festivities.  While  I  was  at  the  Catholic  Mis- 
sion, relating  my  adventures  to  Dr.  Knoblecher,  a  inessengei 
came  to  announce  that  Abd-el  Kader's  boat  had  left,  and  thai 


AN    ILLUMINATED    1'ICTURK.  37 B 

he,  with  the  other  chiefs  of  Khartoum,  were  ready  to  set  out  on 
horseback  for  the  White  Nile.  We  rode  at  once  to  the  house 
of  Moussa  Bey,  who  had  quite  recovered  from  his  illness. 
The  company  was  already  mounted  in  the  square  before  the 
house,  and  only  awaited  our  arrival.  We  dashed  through  the 
lanes  of  the  slave  quarter,  raising  such  a  cloud  of  dust  that 
little  except  red  caps  and  horses'  tails  was  visible,  until  we 
came  out  upon  the  open  plain,  where  our  cavalcade  made  a 
showy  and  picturesque  appearance. 

The  company  consisted  of  Abd-el  Kader  Bey,  Moussa  Bey. 
Musakar  Bey,  AH  Bey  Khasib,  Abou-Sin  and  Owd-el  Kerim, 
the  Shukoree  chiefs,  Ali  Effendi,  Mohammed  Kheyr,  Dr.  Reitz, 
Dr.  Peuey  and  myself,  besides  a  number  of  inferior  officers 
and  at  least  fifty  attendants  :  in  short,  everybody  of  conse- 
quence in  Khartoum  except  the  Pasha,  who  was  represented 
by  one  of  his  Secretaries.  The  Beys  were  mounted  on  fine 
Arabian  stallions,  Dr.  Peney  on  a  tall  dromedary,  and  the 
Arab  chiefs  on  mules  and  donkeys,  while  the  grooms  and  pipe- 
bearerh  ran  behind  on  foot.  I  shall  long  remember  the  bril- 
liant picture  of  that  morning.  The  sky  was  clear  and  hoi,  and 
the  palms  rustled  their  shining  leaves  in  a  light  wind.  The 
fields  of  beans  lay  spread  out  between  us  and  the  river,  their 
purple  blossoms  rolling  in  long  drifts  and  flakes  of  color,  and 
warm,  voluptuous  perfume.  The  red  caps,  the  green  and  scar- 
let housings  of  the  horses,  the  rich  blue,  brown,  purple  and 
violet  dresses  of  the  Beys,  and  the  snowy  robes  of  the  Arabs, 
with  their  crimson  borders  thrown  over  the  shoulder,  projected 
against  the  tawny  hue  of  the  distant  plains,  and  the  warm  blue 
of  the  sky,  formed  a  feast  of  color  which,  in  its  entire  richness 
and  harmony,  so  charmed  my  eye  that  the  sight  of  it  became  a 


874  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL   A  FFIIOA. 

luxury  to  the  sense,  as  palpable  as  that  of  an  exquisite  flavoi 
to  the  palate.  Away  we  went  at  full  gallop,  the  glittering 
array  of  colors  dancing  and  interchanging  to  the  rapid  music, 
as  our  horses'  hoofs  tore  the  bean-vines  and  flung  their  trailing 
blossoms  into  the  air,  until  we  reached  the  bank  of  the  White 
Nile,  where  the  Bey's  vessel  was  just  coming  to  land.  Here 
the  Arab  shekhs  and  the  greater  part  of  the  inferior  officers 
embraced  Abd-el  Kader  and  returned  to  Khartoum. 

The  rest  of  us  crossed  to  the  island  of  Moussa  Bey  and 
walked  over  the  thick  green  turf  to  a  large  mimosa  tree,  of 
the  variety  called  'araz,  where  the  carpets  were  spread  on  the 
ground  for  us  and  the  slaves  were  ready  with  our  pipes.  We 
lay  there  two  or  three  hours,  in  the  pleasant  shade,  talking, 
smoking,  and  lazily  watching  the  motions  of  the  attendants, 
who  were  scattered  all  over  the  island.  An  Albanian  in  a 
scarlet  dress  shot  a  wild  goose,  and  Dr.  Reitz  tried  to  bring  down 
an  ibis,  but  failed.  Finally  the  showrmeh — an  entire  sheep, 
stuffed  with  rice — appeared,  garnished  with  bread,  onions, 
radishes  and  grapes.  We  bared  our  right  arms  and  buried  our 
hands  in  the  smoking  flesh  with  such  good  will,  that  in  half  an 
hour  the  dish  contained  nothing  but  a  beautiful  skeleton. 
Abd-el  Kader  Bey  honored  me  by  tearing  off  a  few  choice  mor- 
sels with  his  own  fingers  and  presenting  them  to  me.  A  bowl 
of  rice  cooked  in  milk  and  sweetened,  completed  the  repast. 
At  noon  we  went  on  board  the  sandal,  and  after  being  ship- 
ped to  the  other  side,  took  leave  of  Abd-el  Kader  with  an  em 
brace  and  "  God  grant  you  a  prosperous  journey ! " — to  which 
he  replied  :  "  God  grant  it !  "  He  sailed  off,  up  the  White 
Nile,  for  Tura,  with  a  fine  breeze,  and  we  turned  homewaris. 
The  wind  which  blew  across  the  plain  in  our  faces,  was  as  hoi 


THE  PASHA'S  STORIES.  87fl 

and  dry  as  the  blast  of  a  furnace,  and  my  head  reeled  under 
the  terrible  intensity  of  Ihe  sunshine.  The  Beys  took  evert 
opportunity  of  displaying  their  horsemanship,  dashing  over  the 
bean-fields  in  wild  zigzags,  reining  up  in  mid-career,  throw- 
ing their  crooked  canes  into  the  air  after  the  manner  of  a 
jereed,  and  describing  circles  and  ellipses  at  full  gallop.  The 
finest  of  all  was  my  handsome  Albanian  friend,  Musakar  Bey. 
I  called  upon  the  Pasha  the  same  afternoon,  to  give  him 
an  account  of  my  voyage  up  the  White  Nile,  and  was  obliged 
to  remain  and  dine  with  him.  He  was  very  muoh  interested 
in  my  adventures  with  the  Shillooks,  but  gave  me  to  under- 
stand that  the  negroes  had  great  fear  of  his  power,  and  that  if 
they  had  not  known  I  was  under  his  protection  they  would  cer- 
tainly have  killed  me.  When  I  spoke  of  the  giant  stature  of 
the  Shillooks  he  confirmed  what  I  had  already  heard,  that  the 
Kyks  and  Baris  are  full  seven  feet  in  height.  He  also  stated 
that  his  predecessor,  Achmet  Pasha  Menekleh,  had  captured 
in  the  regions  beyond  Fazogl  thirty  blacks,  who  were  nine  feet 
nigh  and  terrible  to  behold.  They  were  brought  to  Khartoum 
in  chains,  he  said,  but  refused  to  eat,  howled  like  wild  beasts, 
and  died  in  paroxysms  of  savage  fury.  When  I  remembered 
that  the  Pasha  had  already  told  me  that  there  was  a  subterra- 
neous passage  from  Alexandria  to  the  Fyoom  (a  distance  of 
two  hundred  miles),  made  by  Alexander  the  Great,  and  that 
the  Sultan  at  Constantinople  had  an  ape  which  grew  to  be 
tweutv  fe«t  in  height,  I  received  this  last  communication  with 
i  grain  of  allowance.  He  fully  believed  in  the  existence  of 
the  N'yam-N'yums  (a  horribly  suggestive  name),  or  canni- 
bals, who  I  have  no  doubt,  are  a  fabulous  race.  Dr.  Barth 
heard  of  them  in  Adaiuowa,  south  of  Lake  Tsad,  and  Dr 


876  JOURNEY    TO    OKNTRAL    AFRICA. 

Knob  echer  in  the  B*»ri  country,  but  no  one  has  ever  yet  seel 
them. 

The  expedition  of  Lattif  Effendi  had  met  with  many  de- 
lays, but  on  Monday,  the  second  of  February,  every  thing  wa* 
ready  for  its  departure.  It  consisted  of  two  large  nekkers  n 
trad  ing- vessels,  each  armed  with  a  cannon,  and  carrying  sii 
soldiers  in  addition  to  the  crew.  It  was  also  provided  with 
interpreters,  who  spoke  the  languages  of  the  different  tribes. 
Fat  Abou-Balta,  who  was  the  owner  of  one  of  the  vessels,  Dr. 
Peney,  Dr.  Reitz  and  myself,  made  up  a  party  to  accompany 
Lattif  Effendi  the  first  stage  of  his  voyage.  We  took  the  same 
little  sandal  in  which  I  had  sailed,  and  pushed  away  from 
Khartoum  at  sunset,  followed  by  the  nekkers.  The  relatives 
of  the  sailors  were  crowded  on  the  bank  to  bid  them  good-bye, 
and  as  the  vessels  weighed  anchor,  the  women  set  up  the  shrill 
"  lu-lu-lu-lu-lu"  which  they  use  to  express  all  emotions,  from 
rapture  down  to  despair.  We  had  a  light,  but  favoring  wind, 
and  at  nine  o'clock  reached  a  long,  sandy  beach  about  five 
miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  White  Nile,  where  we  came  to  a 
halt.  The  vessels  were  moored  to  the  shore,  fires  kindled, 
pipes  lighted  and  coffee  made,  and  we  gathered  into  groups  on 
the  sand,  in  the  light  of  the  full  moon.  At  midnight  the  cus- 
tomary sheep  made  its  appearance,  accompanied  by  two  bottles 
of  claret,  whereat  Abou-Balta  affected  to  be  scandalized,  so 
long  as  any  Moslem  attendants  were  in  the  neighborhood. 
When  the  coast  was  clear,  he  sprawled  out  like  another  Fal- 
Btaff,  his  jolly  face  beaming  in  the  moonlight,  and  took  a  sly 
taste  of  the  forbidden  beverage,  which  he  liked  so  well  that  he 
no  longer  resented  the  wicked  nickname  of  "  gamoos  el-baJir1 
(hippopotamus),  which  we  bestowed  upon  him.  We  tried  to 


ABOU-BIN,    THE    8HUKOREK    OHTKF.  iJTT 

sleep  a  little,  but  although  the  sand  was  soft,  the  night  air  waa 
chilly,  aiid  I  believe  nobody  succeeded  but  Abou-Balta,  whose 
enormous  belly  shook  with  the  force  of  his  snoring,  as  he  lay 
stretched  out  on  his  back.  By  three  in  the  morning  every- 
body was  tired ;  the  fires  had  burned  out,  the  meats  of  the 
banquet  had  grown  cold,  and  the  wind  blew  more  freshly  from 
the  north.  Latt'if  Effendi  called  his  sailors  on  board  and  we 
took  leave  of  him.  The  two  nekkers  spread  their  huge  wings 
and  sailed  off  in  the  moonlight  for  the  laud  of  the  Baris,  while 
we  made  our  slow  way  back  to  Khartoum,  where  we  arrived 
at  daybreak. 

During  my  absence  there  had  been  three  distinguished  ar- 
rivals— Abou-Siu,  the  great  shekh  of  the  Shukorees  (the  father 
of  0\vd-el  Kerim),  Melek  Dyaab,  the  king  of  Dar  El-Mahass, 
aud  All,  shekh  of  the  Ababdehs — all  of  whom  had  been  sum 
moiied  by  the  Pasha,  for  the  purpose  of  consulting  with  them 
on  the  condition  of  their  territories.  Abou-Siu  was  one  of  the 
stateliest  and  most  dignified  personages  I  had  ever  seen.  He 
was  about  seventy-five  years  of  age,  six  feet  six  inches  in 
height,  straight  as  a  lance,  with  a  keen,  fiery  eye,  and  a  gray 
beard  which  flowed  to  his  waist.  Dr.  Peney,  who  had  visited 
the  old  shekh  in  Takka,  informed  me  that  he  could  bring  into 
the  field  four  thousand  warriors,  each  mounted  on  his  own 
dromedary.  The  Shukorees  wear  shirts  of  chain-mail  and 
helmets  with  chain-pieces  falling  on  each  side  of  the  face,  like 
their  Saracen  ancestors.  Their  weapons  are  still  the  sabre  and 
lance,  with  which  they  have  maintained  their  independence 
against  all  enemies,  except  the  cannon  of  Mohammed  All 
Dr.  Reitz  took  me  to  visit  the  Shekh,  who  was  living  in  an 
humble  mud  building,  uot  far  from  the  Pasha's  palace.  W0 


3Y8  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

found  uiui  giving  audience  to  a  number  of  inferioi  ehokhs,  who 
were  seated  upon  the  earthen  floor,  below  his  divaL.  His  aon, 
Owd-el  Kerim,  was  among  them.  The  Consul  took  his  seal 
at  the  shekh's  side,  and  I  did  the  same,  but,  although  nothing 
was  said,  I  saw  that  those  present  mentally  resented  our  pre- 
sumption, and  felt  that  I  had  been  guilty  of  a  breach  of  deco- 
rum. The  object  of  our  visit  was  to  invite  the  shekh  to  dine 
with  us.  and  he  graciously  complied.  Owd-el  Kerim  was  in- 
cluded in  the  invitation,  but  he  excused  himself  on  the  ground 
that  he  did  not  dare  to  eat  at  the  same  table  with  his  father, 
I  was  delighted  with  this  trait,  which  recalled  the  patriarchal 
days  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  justified  the  claim  of  the 
Arabs  to  the  blood  of  Abraham. 

After  my  return  the  weather  had  suddenly  changed,  and 
every  thing  denoted  the  approach  of  the  hot  and  sickly  season. 
The  thermometer  stood  at  105°  in  the  shade,  at  noon,  anJ 
there  was  an  intensely  hot  wind  from  the  south.  On  account 
of  the  languor  and  depression  consequent  upon  such  a  heat,  it 
required  an  extraordinary  effort  to  make  the  necessary  entries 
in  my  journal.  I  barely  succeeded  in  moving  about  sufficient- 
ly to  shake  off  the  feverish  humors  which  in  that  climate  so 
rapidly  collect  in  the  system.  I  always  placed  a  cool  earthen 
jug  of  water  at  my  bedside,  and  when  I  awoke  in  the  middle 
of  the  night  with  a  heavy  head  and  parched  throat,  would  take 
a  full  draught,  which  immediately  threw  me  into  a  profuse 
sweat,  after  which  I  slept  soundly  and  healthily  until  morning. 
He  who  lives  in  Khartoum  in  the  hot  season  must  either  sweat 
or  die.  M.  Drovetti,  of  Alexandria  (son  of  the  French  Consul 
Drovetti,  with  whom  Belzoni  nad  s>o  many  quarrels),  arrived 
about  this  time  and  was  immediately  prostrated  with  fever 


CAMKI.S     AND     BILLS    OF     EXCHANGE.  879 

Many  of  the  Franks  and  Egyptians  were  also  affected,  and 
Achmet,  who  felt  plethoric  symptoms,  must  needs  go  to  a  bar- 
ber and  be  bled  in  the  head.  He  besought  me  to  return  to 
Egypt,  and  as  I  had  already  accomplished  much  more  than  I 
anticipated,  I  began  at  once  to  prepare  for  the  homeward 
journey. 

The  route  which  I  fixed  upon  was  that  across  the  Re- 
yooda  Desert  to  Napata,  the  ancient  capital  of  Ethiopia, 
thence  to  Dongola,  and  through  the  Nubian  kingdoms  to  the 
Second  Cataract  of  the  Nile,  at  Wadi  Haifa.  The  first  part 
of  the  journey,  through  the  countries  of  the  Kababish  and  the 
Howoweet,  was  considered  rather  dangerous,  and  as  a  precau- 
tionary measure  I  engaged  three  of  the  former  tribe,  as  guide 
and  camel-drivers.  I  purchased  two  large  Shukoree  dromeda- 
ries for  myself  and  Achmet,  at  three  hundred  and  two  hundred 
and  fifty  piastres  respectively,  and  hired  three  others  from  .the 
Kababish,  at  fifty  piastres  for  the  journey  to  Eddabe,  on  the 
Dongolese  frontier,  by  way  of  Napata.  The  contract  was  for 
mally  made  in  the  presence  of  the  shekh  of  Khartoum  and  Dr. 
Reitz,  both  of  whom  threatened  the  Arabs  with  destruction  in 
case  they  should  not  convey  me  safely  through  the  Desert. 
The  Consul  also  did  me  good  service  in  the  negotiation  of  my 
draft  on  Fathalla  Musallee,  a  Coptic  merchant,  who  demanded 
twenty  per  cent,  for  the  exchange.  This,  as  my  funds  were 
getting  low,  would  have  been  a  serious  loss,  but  by  some  arith- 
metical legerdemain,  which  I  could  not  understand,  the  Consul 
BO  bewildered  poor  Fathalla's  brain,  that  he  was  finally  made 
to  believe  that  a  discount  of  five  per  cent,  would  somehow  pro- 
fit him  more  in  the  end  than  one  of  twenty  per  cent.  Fathalla 
paid  the  money  with  a  melancholy  confusion  of  ideas,  and  1 


880  JOURNflT   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

doubt  whether  he  has  to  this  day  discovered  in  what  waj  Iw 
increased  hia  profits  by  the  operation. 

My  provision-chests  were  replenished  with  coffee,  sugar 
rice,  dates  and  mishmish  (dried  apricots),  from  the  bazaar, 
and  Achmet  worked  so  cheerily  with  the  prospect  of  leaving 
Soudan,  that  every  thing  was  in  readiness  at  a  day's  notice. 
Rather  than  wait  until  the  following  Monday,  for  luck's  sake, 
I  fixed  upon  Thursday,  the  fifth  of  February,  for  our  depar- 
ture. Many  of  the  subordinate  Egyptian  officers  prepared  let- 
ters to  their  families,  which  they  intrusted  to  Achmet's  care, 
and  poor  old  Rufaa  Bey,  more  than  ever  disgusted  with  his 
exile,  charged  me  with  a  letter  to  his  wife  and  another  to  Mr 
Murray,  through  whose  aid  he  hoped  to  get  permission  to  re- 
turn to  Egypt.  I  paid  a  farewell  visit  to  the  Pasha,  who  re- 
ceived me  with  great  courtesy,  informing  me  (what  I  already 
knew),  that  he  was  about  to  be  superseded  by  Rustum  Pasha, 
who,  he  predicted,  would  not  find  the  government  of  Soudan 
an  easy  one. 

I  was  sorry  to  part  with  Vicar  Knoblecher  and  his  breth- 
ren, Those  self-sacrificing  men  have  willingly  devoted  them- 
selves to  a  life — if  life  it  can  be  called,  which  is  little  better 
than  death — in  the  remote  heart  of  Africa,  for  the  sake  of  in- 
troducing a  purer  religion  among  its  pagan  inhabitants,  and  I 
trust  they  will  be  spared  to  see  their  benevolent  plans  realized. 
They  are  men  of  the  purest  character  and  animated  by  the  best 
desires.  Aboona  Suleyman,  as  Dr.  Kuoblecher  is  called,  is 
already  widely  known  and  esteemed  throughout  Soudan,  and 
although  he  can  do  but  little  at  present  in  the  way  of  religious 
teaching,  he  has  instituted  a  school  for  the  children  of  the 
Copts,  which  may  in  time  reform  the  (so-called)  Christian  so- 


ROTAL    GUESTS.  381 

aiety  of  Khartoum.  If  he  should  succeed  in  establishing  a 
mission  in  the  country  of  the  Baris,  the  result  will  be  not  less 
important  to  Science  than  to  Christianity,  and  the  experiment 
is  one  which  should  interest  the  world. 

On  the  evening  before  my  departure  the  shekhs  Abou-Sin. 
Ali,  the  Ababdeh,  and  Melek  Dyaab  came  to  dine  with  Dr 
Reilz.  Abou-Sin  was  grave  and  stately  as  ever,  and  I  never 
looked  at  him  without  thinking  of  his  four  thousand  mailed 
warriors  on  their  dromedaries,  sweeping  over  the  plains  of 
Takka.  Shekh  Ali  was  of  medium  size,  with  a  kind,  amiable 
face,  and  a  touch  of  native  refinement  in  his  manner.  King 
Dyaab,  however,  who  wore  a  capacious  white  turban  and  a 
robe  of  dark-blue  cloth,  was  the  "  merry  monarch"  of  Central 
Africa.  His  large  eyes  twinkled  with  good  humor  and  his 
round  face  beamed  with  the  radiance  of  a  satisfied  spirit.  He 
brought  a  black  Dongolese  horse  as  a  present  for  Dr.  Reitz, 
and  requested  me  to  put  him  through  his  paces,  on  the  plain 
before  the  house,  as  it  would  have  been  contrary  to  African 
etiquette  for  the  Doctor  himself  to  test  the  character  of  the 
gift.  I  complied,  but  the  saddle  was  adapted  only  for  the 
short  legs  of  the  fat  king,  and  after  running  a  circular  course 
with  my  knees  drawn  up  nearly  to  my  chin,  the  resemblance 
of  the  scene  to  the  monkey-riding  of  the  circus  struck  me  so 
forcibly,  that  I  jumped  off  and  refused  to  mount  again,  greatly 
to  the  monarch's  disappointment. 

Shekhs  Abou-Sin  and  Ali  took  their  departure  shortly 
after  the  disposal  of  the  roast  sheep  and  salad  which  constitut- 
ed the  dinner,  but  King  Dyaab  and  Dr.  P6ney  remained  until 
a  late  hour,  smoking  a  parting  pipe  with  me,  and  partaking  of 
a  mixture  of  claret,  lemons,  pomegranate  juice  and  spicea 


382  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

which  the  Consul  compounded  into  a  sherbet  of  the  most  deli 
oious  flavor.  King  Dyaab  drank  my  health  with  a  profusion 
of  good  wishes,  begging  me  to  remain  another  week  and  ac- 
company his  caravan.  His  palace  in  Dar  El-Mahass,  he  said, 
was  entirely  at  my  disposal  and  I  must  remain  several  weeks 
with  him.  But  there  is  nothing  so  unpleasant  to  me  as  to 
postpone  a  journey  after  all  the  preparations  are  made,  and  I 
was  reluctantly  obliged  to  decline  his  invitation.  I  take  plea- 
sure, however,  in  testifying  to  the  King's  good  qualities,  which 
fully  entitle  him  to  the  throne  of  Dar  El  Maliass,  and  were  I 
installed  in  his  capital  of  Kuke,  as  court-poet,  I  should  cer- 
tainly write  a  national  ballad  for  the  Mahassees,  commencing 
in  this  wise : 

"  El  Melek  Dyaab  is  a  jolly  old  King, 
And  a  jolly  old  King  is  he,"  etc. 

After  the  Melek  had  bestowed  a  parting  embrace  by  throw- 
ing his  arms  around  my  waist  and  dropping  his  round  head  on 
my  shoulder  like  a  sixty-eight  pound  shot,  he  was  sent  home 
in  state  on  the  back  of  Sultan,  the  Dar-Fiir  stallion.  The 
moonlight  was  so  beautiful  that  the  Consul  and  I  accompanied 
Dr.  Peney  to  his  residence.  The  latter  suggested  another 
pipe  in  the  open  air  of  his  court-yard,  and  awoke  his  Shillook 
slaves,  who  were  lying  asleep  near  the  house,  to  perform  a 
dance  for  our  amusement.  There  were  three — two  males  and 
a  female — and  their  midnight  dance  was  the  most  uncouth  and 
barbaric  thing  I  saw  in  Khartoum.  They  brandished  their 
clubs,  leaped  into  the  air,  alighting  sometimes  on  one  foot  and 
sometimes  on  both,  and  accompanied  their  motions  with  a 
series  of  short,  quick  howls,  not  unlike  the  laughter  of  a  hye- 


TAKING    LEAVE    OF    MY    PETS.  383 

na.  After  the  dance,  Dr.  Reitz  effected  a  reconciliation  be- 
tweeu  one  of  the  men  and  the  woman,  who  had  been  married 
but  were  about  to  separate.  They  knelt  before  him,  side  by 
iide,  and  recounted  their  complaints  of  each  other,  which  were 
sufficiently  ludicrous,  but  a  present  of  three  piastres  (fifteen 
cents  !),  purchased  forgetfuluess  of  the  past  and  renewed  VOWB 
for  the  future. 

I  felt  a  shadow  of  regret  when  I  reflected  that  it  was  my 
last  night  in  Khartoum.  After  we  walked  home  I  roused  the 
old  lioness  in  her  corner,  gave  her  a  farewell  hug  and  sat  down 
on  her  passive  back  until  she  stretched  out  her  paws  and  went 
to  sleep  again.  I  then  visited  the  leopard  in  the  garden,  made 
him  jump  upon  my  shoulders  and  play  his  antics  over  once 
more.  The  hyenas  danced  and  laughed  fiendishly,  as  usual 
when  they  saw  me,  but  the  tall  Kordofan  antelope  came  up 
softly  and  rubbed  his  nose  against  my  leg,  asking  for  the 
dourra  which  I  was  accustomed  to  give  him.  I  gave  him, 
and  the  gazelles,  and  the  leopard,  *sxch  an  affectionate  kiss,  but 
poked  the  surly  hyenas  until  they  havLed,  on  my  way  to  bed 


384  JOGRNKT  TO  CENTRAL  A TRIO  A. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

THE      COMMERCE      OF      SOUDAN. 

The  Comnrerce  of  Sondftn— Avenues  of  Trade — The  Merchants—  Charao  er  <  f  the  Tin 
ports — Speculation — The  Gum  Trade  of  Eordofan — The  Ivory  Trade—  At  nsos  of  th* 
Government— The  Traffic  in  Slaves— Prices  of  Slaves— Their  Treatment 

BEFOP.S  taking  a  final  leave  of  Soudan,  it  may  be  well  to  say 
a  few  words  concerning  the  trade  of  the  country.  As  the  Nile 
is  the  principal  avenue  of  communication  between  the  Medi- 
terranean and  the  eastern  half  of  Central  Africa,  Soudan  la 
thus  made  a  centre  of  commerce,  the  character  of  which  may 
be  taken  as  an  index  to  all  the  interior  traffic  of  the  continent. 
European  goods  reach  Soudan  through  two  principal  chan- 
nels ;  by  the  port  of  Sowakin,  on  the  Ked  Sea,  and  the  cara- 
van route  up  the  Nile  and  across  the  Great  Nubian  Desert 
Of  late  years  the  latter  has  become  the  principal  thoroughfare, 
as  winter  is  the  commercial  season,  and  the  storms  on  the  Red 
Sea  are  very  destructive  to  the  small  Arab  craft.  The  mer- 
chants leave  Cairo  through  the  autumn,  principally  between 
the  first  of  October  and  the  first  of  December,  as  they  travel 
slowly  and  rarely  make  the  journey  in  less  than  two  months 
and  a  half.  The  great  proportion  of  them  take  the  same  route 


THE  MKRCHANTS  OF  8OUDAH.  885 

[  followed,  from  Korosko  to  Berber,  where  they  ship  again  foi 
Khartoum  Those  who  buy  their  own  camels  at  Assouan, 
make  the  whole  trip  by  land ;  but  it  is  more  usual  for  them  to 
buy  camels  in  Soudan  for  the  return  journey,  as  they  can  sell 
them  in  Upper  Egypt  at  advanced  prices.  In  fact,  the  trade 
in  camels  alone  is  not  inconsiderable.  On  my  way  to  Khar- 
toum I  met  many  thousands,  in  droves  of  from  one  to  five 
hundred,  on  their  way  to  Egypt. 

The  merchants  who  make  this  yearly  trip  to  Soudan  are 
mostly  Egyptians  and  Nubians.  There  are  a  number  of  Syr- 
ians established  in  the  country,  but  they  are  for  the  most  part 
connected  with  houses  in  Cairo,  and  their  caravans  between 
the  two  places  are  in  charge  of  agents,  natives,  whose  charac- 
ter has  been  proved  by  long  service.  There  were  also  three  or 
four  French  and  Italian  merchants,  and  one  Englishman  (Mr. 
Peterick,  in  Kordofin),  who  carried  on  their  business  in  the 
same  manner.  It  is  no  unusual  thing  for  Nubians  who  have 
amassed  two  or  three  thousand  piastres  by  household  service 
in  Cairo,  to  form  partnerships,  invest  their  money  in  cotton 
goods,  and  after  a  year  or  two  on  the  journey  (for  time  is  any 
thing  but  money  to  them),  return  to  Egypt  with  a  few  hundred 
weight  of  gum  or  half  a  dozen  camels.  They  earn  a  few  pias- 
tres, perhaps,  in  return  for  the  long  toils  and  privations  they 
have  endured  ;  but  their  pride  is  gratified  by  the  title  of  Djel- 
labint — merchants.  It  is  reckoned  a  good  school,  and  no* 
without-  reason,  for  young  Egyptians  who  devote  themselves 
to  commerce.  I  met  even  the  sons  of  Beys  among  this  class. 
Those  who  are  prudent,  and  have  a  fair  capital  to  start  upon, 
can  generally  gain  enough  in  two  or  AJiree  years  to  establish 
themselves  respectably  in  Egypt. 
17 


386  JOURNEY    TO    CKNTR4L    AFRICA. 

The  goods  brought  into  Central  Africa  consist  principally 
of  English  muslins  and  calicoes,  the  light  red  woollen  stuffs  of 
Barbary,  cutlery,  beads  and  trinkets.  Cloths,  silks,  powder 
tobacco,  and  arakee,  are  also  brought  in  considerable  quanti- 
ties, while  in  the  large  towns  there  is  always  a  good  sale  for 
sugar,  rice,  coffee  and  spices.  The  Turkish  officials  and  the 
Franks  are  very  fond  of  the  aniseed  cordial  of  Scio,  maraschi 
no,  rosoglio,  and  the  other  Levantine  liquors ;  and  even  the 
heavy,  resinous  wines  of  Smyrna  and  Cyprus  find  their  way 
here.  The  natives  prefer  for  clothing  the  coarse,  unbleached 
cotton  stuffs  of  their  own  manufacture,  one  mantle  of  which  is 
sufficient  for  years.  As  may  readily  be  supposed,  the  market 
is  frequently  glutted  with  goods  of  this  description,  whence 
the  large  houses  often  send  money  from  Cairo  for  the  purchase 
of  gum  and  ivory,  in  preference  to  running  any  risk.  At  the 
time  of  my  visit,  all  sorts  of  muslins  and  calicoes  might  be  had 
in  Khartoum  at  a  very  slight  advance  on  Cairo  prices,  and  the 
merchants  who  were  daily  arriving  with  additional  bales,  com- 
plained that  the  sale  would  not  pay  the  expenses  of  their  jour- 
ney. The  remarkable  success  of  the  caravans  of  the  previotu 
year  had  brought  a  crowd  of  adventurers  into  the  lists,  very 
few  of  whom  realized  their  expectations.  It  was  the  Califor- 
nia experience  in  another  form.  No  passion  is  half  so  blind 
as  the  greed  for  gain. 

Khartoum  is  the  great  metropolis  of  all  this  region.  Some 
few  caravans  strike  directly  through  the  Beyooda  Desert,  from 
Dongola  to  Kordofan,  but  the  great  part  come  directly  to  the 
former  place,  where  they  dispose  of  their  goods,  and  then  pro 
oeed  to  Kordofan  for  gum,  or  wait  the  return  of  the  yearly  ex- 
pedition up  the  White  Nile,  to  stock  themselves  with  ivory. 


GUM    AND    IVORT.  387 

On  both  these  articles  there  is  generally  a  good,  sometimes  a 
great,  profit.  The  gum  comes  almost  entirely  from  Kordofan, 
where  the  quantity  annually  gathered  amounts  to  thirty  thou- 
sand contar,  or  cwt.  It  is  collected  by  the  natives  from  that 
variety  of  the  mimosa  called  the  ashaba,  and  sold  by  them  at 
from  fifty-five  to  sixty  piastres  the  contar.  Lattif  Pasha  at  one 
time  issued  a  decree  prohibiting  any  person  from  selling  it  at 
less  than  sixty  piastres,  but  Dr.  Reitz,  by  an  energetic  protest, 
obtained  the  revocation  of  this  arbitrary  edict.  The  cost  of 
carrying  it  to  Cairo  is  very  nearly  fifty  piastres  the  contar, 
exclusive  of  a  government  tax  of  twelve  and  a  half  per  cent. ; 
and  as  the  price  of  gum  in  Cairo  fluctuates  according  to  the 
demand  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hundred  and  fifty 
piastres,  the  merchant's  gain  may  be  as  low  as  ten  or  as  high 
as  one  hundred  per  cent.  The  gum  brought  from  Yemen  and 
the  shores  of  the  Red  Sea  is  considered  superior  in  quality 
but  is  not  produced  in  such  abundance. 

The  ivory  is  mostly  obtained  from  the  negro  tribes  on  the 
White  Nile.  Small  quantities  are  occasionally  brought  from 
Dar-Fur  and  the  unknown  regions  towards  Bornou,  by  Arab 
caravans.  The  trading  expeditions  up  the  White  Nile,  until  the 
winter  of  1851—2,  were  entirely  under  the  control  of  the  Pasha 
of  Soudan,  in  spite  of  the  treaty  of  1838,  making  it  free  to 
all  nations.  The  expedition  of  that  winter,  which  sailed  from 
Khartoum  about  two  months  before  my  arrival,  consisted  of 
seven  vessels,  accompanied  by  an  armed  force.  The  parties 
interested  in  it  consisted  of  the  Pasha,  the  Egyptian  mer- 
chants, and  the  rayahs,  or  European  merchants.  The  gainH 
were  to  be  divided  into  twenty-four  parts,  eight  of  which  went 
to  the  Pasha,  nine  to  the  Turks  and  seven  to  the  Franks.  Dr. 


388  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Reitz  undertook  to  enforce  the  treaty,  and  actually  ran  twc 
vessels  belonging  to  Austrian  protegt's  past  the  guard  estab- 
lished at  the  junction  of  the  Niles.  The  Pasha  thereupon  had 
all  the  sailors  belonging  to  these  vessels  arrested,  but  after  two 
days  of  violent  manoeuvres  and  counter-manoeuvres,  allowed 
the  vessels  to  proceed.  The  unjust  monopoly  was  therefore 
virtually  annulled — an  important  fact  to  Europeans  who  ma) 
wish  to  engage  in  the  trade.  The  vessels  take  with  them 
great  quantities  of  glass  beads,  ear,  arm  and  nose  rings,  and 
the  like,  for  which  the  natives  readily  barter  their  elephants' 
teeth.  These  are  not  found  in  abundance  before  reaching  the 
land  of  the  Nuehrs  and  the  Kyks,  about  lat.  7°,  and  the  best 
specimens  come  from  regions  still  further  south.  They  are 
sold  in  Khartoum  at  the  rate  of  twelve  hundred  piastres  the 
cwt.,  and  in  Cairo  at  twenty-two  hundred,  burdened  with  a  tax 
of  twelve  and  a  half  per  cent. 

The  Government  has  done  its  best  to  cramp  and  injure 
Trade,  the  only  life  of  that  stagnant  land.  In  addition  to  the 
custom-house  at  Assouan,  where  every  thing  going  into  Egypt 
must  pay  duty,  the  Pasha  and  his  satellites  had  established  an 
illegal  custom-house  at  Dongola,  and  obliged  merchants  to  pay 
another  toll,  midway  on  their  journey.  This  was  afterwards 
abolished,  on  account  of  the  remonstrances  which  were  forward- 
ed to  Cairo.  I  found  the  Pasha  so  uniformly  courteous  and 
affable,  that  at  first  I  rejected  many  of  the  stories  told  me  of 
his  oppression  and  cruelty,  but  I  was  afterwards  informed  of 
circumstances  which  exhibited  his  character  in  a  still  more 
hideous  light.  Nevertheless,  I  believe  he  was  in  most  respects 
superior  to  his  predecessors  in  the  office,  and  certainly  to  his 
successor. 


THE    SLAVE    TRADE.  389 

The  traffic  in  slaves  has  decreased  very  much  of  late. 
The  wealthy  Egyptians  still  purchase  slaves,  and  will  continue 
to  do  so,  till  the  "  institution "  is  wholly  abolished,  but  the 
despotic  rule  exercised  by  the  Pasha  in  Nubia  has  had  the 
effect  of  greatly  lessening  the  demand.  Vast  numbers  of  Nu- 
bians go  into  Egypt,  where  they  are  engaged  as  domeatic  ser 
vants,  and  their  paid  labor,  cheap  as  it  is,  is  found  more 
profitable  than  the  unpaid  service  of  negro  slaves.  Besides, 
the  tax  on  the  latter  has  been  greatly  increased,  so  that  mer- 
chants find  the  commodity  less  profitable  than  gum  or  ivory. 
Ten  years  ago,  the  duty  paid  at  Assouan  was  thirty  piastres 
for  a  negro  and  fifty  for  an  Abyssinian  :  at  present  it  is  three 
hundred  and  fifty  for  the  former  and  five  hundred  and  fifty  for 
the  latter,  while  the  tax  can  be  wholly  avoided  by  making  the 
slave  free.  Prices  have  risen  in  consequence,  and  the  traffic  is 
proportionately  diminished.  The  Government  probably  de- 
rives as  large  a  revenue  as  ever  from  it,  on  account  of  the  in- 
creased tax,  so  that  it  has  seemed  to  satisfy  the  demands  of 
some  of  the  European  powers  by  restricting  the  trade,  while  it 
actually  loses  nothing  thereby.  The  Government  slave  hunts 
in  the  interior,  however,  are  no  longer  carried  on.  The  great- 
er part  of  the  slaves  brought  to  Khartoum,  are  purchased  from 
the  Galla  and  Shangalla  tribes  on  the  borders  of  Abyssinia,  or 
from  the  Shillooks  and  Dinkas,  on  the  White  Nile.  The  cap- 
tives taken  in  the  wars  between  the  various  tribes  are  invari- 
ably sold.  The  Abyssinian  girls,  who  are  in  great  demand 
among  the  Egyptians,  for  wives,  are  frequently  sold  by  their 
own  parents.  They  are  treated  with  great  respect,  and  their 
.ot  is  probably  no  worse  than  that  of  any  Arab  or  Turkish 
emale.  The  more  beautiful  of  them  often  bring  from  twc 


390  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

hundred  to  five  hundred  dollars.  Ordinary  household  servant* 
may  he  had  from  one  to  two  thousand  piastres.  My  drago- 
man, Achmet,  purchased  a  small  girl  for  twelve  hundred 
piastres,  as  a  present  for  his  wife.  He  iotended  making  her 
free,  which  he  declared  to  be  a  good  thing,  according  to  bis 
religion;  but  the  true  reason,  I  suspect,  was  the  tax  at 
Assouan. 

The  Egyptians  rarely  maltreat  their  slaves,  and  instances 
of  cruelty  are  much  less  frequent  among  them  than  among  the 
Europeans  settled  here.  The  latter  became  so  notorious  for 
their  violence  that  the  Government  was  obliged  to  establish  a 
law  forbidding  any  Frank  to  strike  his  slave ;  but  in  case  of 
disobedience  to  send  him  before  the  Cadi,  or  Judge,  who  could 
decide  on  the  proper  punishment.  Slavery  prevails  through- 
out all  the  native  kingdoms  of  Central  Africa,  in  more  or  less 
aggravated  forms. 

The  Egyptian  merchants  who  are  located  in  Khartoum  as 
agents  for  houses  in  Cairo,  consider  themselves  as  worse  than 
exiles,  and  indemnify  themselves  by  sensual  indulgence  for 
being  obliged  to  remain  in  a  country  which  they  detest. 
They  live  in  large  houses,  keep  their  harems  of  Inky  slaves, 
eat,  drink  and  smoke  away  their  languid  and  wearisome  days. 
All  the  material  which  they  need  for  such  a  life  is  so  cheap 
that  their  love  of  gain  does  not  suffer  thereby.  One  of  the 
richest  merchants  in  the  place  gave  me  an  account  of  hip 
housekeeping.  He  had  a  large  mud  palace,  a  garden,  and 
twenty  servants  and  slaves,  to  maintain  which  cost  him  eight 
thousand  piastres  (four  hundred  dollars)  a  year.  He  paid  his 
servants  twenty  piastres  a  month,  and  his  slaves  also — at  least 
so  he  told  me,  but  I  did  not  believe  it. 


THE    NATIVES    OF    SOUDAN.  891 

As  for  the  native  Fellahs  of  Soudan,  they  are  so  crushed 
and  imposed  upon,  that  it  is  difficult  to  judge  what  their 
natural  capacities  really  are.  Foreigners,  Frank  as  well  aa 
Egyptian,  universally  complain  of  their  stupidity,  and  I  heard 
the  Pasha  himself  say,  that  if  he  could  have  done  any  thing 
with  them  Abbas  Pasha  might  whistle  to  get  Soudan  from  him. 
That  they  are  very  stupid,  is  true,  but  that  they  have  every 
encouragement  to  be  so,  is  equally  true.  Dr.  Knoblecher,  who, 
of  all  the  men  I  saw  in  Khartoum,  was  best  qualified  to  judge 
correctly,  assured  me  that  they  needed  only  a  just  and  pater 
nal  government,  to  make  rapid  progress  in  the  arts  of  eiviliza 
UOQ 


899  J017RNEF    TO    CENTRAL    AVRIOA 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

FROM   KHARTOUM  TO   EL   METEMMA. 

Farewell  Breakfast— Departure  from  Khartoum— Parting  with  Dr.  Reltz— A  Pr«v1io 
tion  and  Its  Fulfilment — Dreary  Appearance  of  the  Country — Lions — Burying 
Grounds— The  Natives — My  Kababish  Guide,  Mohammed— Character  of  the  Aratu 
—Habits  of  Deception — My  Dromedary — Mutton  and  Mareesa — A  Soudan  Ditty— 
Tho  Rowyan — Akaba  Qerrl — Heat  and  Scenery — An  Altercation  with  the  Guide-- 
A  Mishap— A  Landscape — Tedious  Approach  to  El  Metemina — Appearance  of  the 
Town— Preparations  for  the  Desert — Meeting  Old  Acquaintances. 

THE  wind  blew  so  violently  on  the  morning  of  my  departure 
from  Khartoum,  that  the  ferry-boat  which  had  been  engaged 
to  convey  my  equipage  to  the  Kordofan  shore,  could  not  round 
the  point  at  the  junction  of  the  Niles.  My  camels,  with  the 
Kababish  guide  and  drivers,  had  been  ferried  over  the  evening 
previous,  and  were  in  readiness  to  start.  In  this  dilemma  Dr. 
Peney,  with  whom  I  had  engaged  to  take  a  parting  breakfast 
kindly  gave  me  the  use  of  his  nekker  and  its  crew.  Our 
breakfast  was  a  fete  champetre  under  the  beautiful  nebbuk 
tree  in  the  Doctor's  court-yard,  and  consisted  of  a  highly. 
Bpiced  salmi  of  his  own  compounding,  a  salad  of  lettuce  and 
tomatoes,  and  a  bottle  of  Cyprus  wine.  The  coolness  and 
force  of  the  north-wind  gave  us  a  keen  appetite,  and  our  kind 


DEPARTURE    FROM     KHARTOUM.  808 

host  could  not  say  that  we  slighted  his  culinary  skill,  for  verily 
there  was  nothing  but  empty  plates  to  be  seen,  when  we  arose 
from  the  table.  Dr.  Reitz  and  I  hastened  on  board  the  nek- 
ker,  which  immediately  put  off.  I  left  Khartoum,  regretting 
to  leave  a  few  friends  behind  me  in  that  furnace  of  Soudan, 
yet  glad  to  escape  therefrom  myself.  A  type  of  the  character 
of  the  place  was  furnished  us  while  making  our  way  to  Omdur- 
man.  We  passed  the  body  of  a  woman,  who  had  been  stran 
gled  and  thrown  into  the  water ;  a  sight  which  the  natives 
regarded  without  the  least  surprise.  The  Consul  immediately 
dispatched  one  of  his  servants  to  the  Governor  of  the  city,  ask- 
ing him  to  have  the  body  taken  away  and  properly  interred. 
It  was  full  two  hours  before  we  reached  the  western  bank  of 
the  Nile,  opposite  Omdurman.  Achmet,  who  had  preceded 
me,  had  drummed  up  the  Kababish,  and  they  were  in  readi- 
ness with  my  camels.  The  work  of  apportioning  and  loading 
the  baggage  was  finished  by  noon,  and  the  caravan  started, 
preceded  by  the  guide,  Mohammed,  who  shook  his  long  spear 
in  a  general  defiance  of  all  enemies. 

Dr.  Reitz  and  I,  with  our  attendants,  set  off  in  advance  on 
a  quick  trot.  Our  path  led  over  a  bleak,  barren  plain,  cover 
ed  with  thorns,  through  which  the  wind  whistled  with  a  wintry 
sound.  The  air  was  filled  with  clouds  of  sand,  which  gave  a 
pale  and  sickly  cast  to  the  sunshine.  My  friend  was  unwel. 
and  desponding,  and  after  we  had  ridden  eight  milefi,  he  halt- 
ed to  rest  in  a  deep,  rocky  gully,  where  we  were  sheltered 
from  the  wind.  Here  we  lay  down  upon  the  sand  until  the 
caravan  came  along,  when  we  parted  from  each  other.  "  You  are 
going  back  to  Europe  and  Civilization  ;  "  said  he  mournfully  ; 
"you  have  an  encouraging  future  before  you — while  I  can  only 
17* 


S94  JOtTBNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

look  forward  to  tne  orospect  or  leaving  my  bones  in  this 
accursed  land."  He  then  embraced  me,  mounted  his  drome- 
dary, and  was  soon  lost  to  my  sight  among  the  sand  and  thorn? 
Little  did  I  then  imagine  that  his  last  words  were  the  unhappj 
prediction  which  another  year  would  see  verified  !  * 

We  halted  for  the  night  near  the  village  of  Gerrari.  1 
slept  hut  indifferently,  with  the  heavy  head  and  gloomy  spirits 
I  had  brought  from  Khartoum ;  but  the  free  life  of  my  tent 
did  not  fail  of  its  usual  effect,  and  I  rose  the  next  morning 
fresh,  strong,  and  courageous.  We  were  obliged  to  travel 
slowly,  on  account  of  the  nature  of  the  road,  which,  for  the 
greater  part  of  the  distance  to  El  Metemma,  lay  in  the  Desert, 
just  beyond  the  edge  of  the  cultivated  land.  For  the  first  day 

*  Dr.  Constantine  Reitz  died  about  a  year  after  my  departure  from 
Soudan,  from  the  effects  of  the  climate.  He  had  been  ill  for  some 
months,  aud  while  making  a  journey  to  Kordofan,  felt  himself  growing 
worse  so  rapidly  that  he  returned  to  Khartoum,  where  he  expired  in  a 
few  days.  He  was  about  thirty-three  years  of  age,  and  his  many  ac- 
quirements, joined  to  a  character  of  singular  energy  and  persistence, 
had  led  his  friends  to  hope  for  important  results  from  his  residence  in 
Central  Africa.  With  manners  of  great  brusqueness  and  eccentricity, 
his  generosity  was  unbounded,  and  this,  combined  with  his  intrepidity 
and  his  skill  as  a  horseman  and  a  hunter,  made  him  a  general  favorite 
with  the  Arab  chieftains  of  Ethiopia,  whose  cause  he  was  always 
ready  to  advocate,  against  the  oppressive  measures  o  the  Egyptian 
Government.  It  will  always  be  a  source  of  satisfaction  to  the  author, 
that,  in  passing  through  Germany  in  September,  1852,  he  visited  the 
parerts  of  Dr.  Reitz,  whose  father  is  a  Forstmeister,  or  Inspector  of 
Forests,  near  Darmstadt.  The  joy  which  they  exhibited  on  hearing 
from  their  son  through  one  who  had  so  recently  seen  him,  was  mixed 
with  sadness  as  they  expressed  the  fear  that  they  would  never  see  him 
igain — a  fear,  alas  1  too  soon  realized. 


APPFARANVK    OF    TI1K    COfNTRY.  395 

or  two.  wo  rodo  over  dry.  stony  plain>.  covered  with  thickets 
of  the  small  thorny  mimosa  and  patches  of  lontr  yellow  <rrass. 
The  country  is  crossed  Ity  deep  irullies,  throu<rh  which  the 
streams  formed  by  the  summer  rains  flow  to  the  Nile.  Their 
banns  are  lined  with  a  thick  growth  of  sont,  nebbuk,  and  other 
trees  peculiar  to  Central  Africa,  in  which  many  lions  make 
their  lairs  and  prey  upon  the  flocks  of  the  Araba  One  bold, 
fierce  fellow  had  established  himself  on  the  island  of  Musakar 
B'y,  just  below  the  junction  of  the  Nile,  and  carried  off  night- 
ly a  sheep  or  calf,  defying  the  attempts  of  the  natives  to  take 
him.  Our  view  was  confined  to  the  thorns,  on  whose  branches 
we  left  many  shreds  of  clothing  as  mementoes  of  the  journey, 
and  to  the  barren  range  of  Djebel  Gerrari,  stretching  west- 
ward into  the  Desert.  Occasionally,  however,  in  crossing  the 
low  spurs  which  ran  out  from  this  chain,  the  valley  of  the 
Nile — the  one  united  Nile  again — lay  before  us,  far  to  the 
east  and  north-east,  the  river  glistening  in  the  sun  as  he  spread 
his  arms  round  island  after  island,  till  his  lap  could  hold  no 
more.  The  soil  is  a  poor,  coarse  gravel,  and  the  inhabitants 
support  themselves  by  their  herds  of  sheep  and  goats,  which 
browse  on  the  thorns.  In  places  there  are  large  thickets  of 
the  usfier,  or  euphorbia,  twenty  feet  high.  It  grows  about  the 
huts  of  the  natives,  who  make  no  attempt  to  exterminate  it, 
Dotwithstanding  the  poisonous  nature  of  its  juice.  Every  mile 
or  two  we  passed  a  large  Arab  burying-ground,  crowded  with 
rough  head  and  foot-stones,  except  where  white  pennons,  flut- 
tering on  poles,  denoted  a  more  than  ordinary  sanctity  in  the 
deceased.  The  tomb  of  the  Shekh,  or  holy  man  of  Merreh, 
was  a  conical  structure  of  str nes  and  clay,  about  fifteen  feet  in 
breadth  at  the  base,  and  twenty  feet  high.  The  graves  are  so 


SPfl  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

numerous  and  the  dwellings  so  few,  that  one  nas  the  iinpros 
sion  of  travelling  in  a  country  depopulated  by  the  pestilence  • 
yet  we  met  many  persons  on  the  road — partly  Kababish,  and 
partly  natives  of  Dongola  and  Mahass.  The  men  touched 
their  lips  and  foreheads  on  passing  me,  and  the  women  greet- 
ed me  with  that  peculiar  "  hab-bab-ba ! "  which  seems  to  be 
the  universal  expression  of  salutation  among  the  various  tribes 
of  Central  Africa. 

My  guide,  Mohammed,  was  a  Kababish,  and  the  vainast 
and  silliest  Arab  I  ever  knew.  He  wore  his  hair  in  long 
braids,  extending  from  the  forehead  and  temples  to  the  nape 
of  the  neck,  and  kept  in  their  places  by  a  layer  of  mutton-fat, 
half  an  inch  thick,  which  filled  up  the  intervening  spaces. 
His  hollow  cheeljs,  deep-sunken  eyes,  thin  and  wiry  beard,  and 
the  long  spear  he  carried  in  his  hand  made  him  a  fair  represen- 
tative of  Don  Quixote,  and  the  resemblance  was  not  diminished 
by  the  gaunt  and  ungainly  camel  on  which  he  jogged  along  at 
the  head  of  my  caravan.  He  was  very  devout,  praying  for 
quite  an  unreasonable  length  of  time  before  and  after  meals, 
and  always  had  a  large  patch  of  sand  on  his  forehead,  from 
striking  it  on  the  ground,  as  he  knelt  towards  Mecca.  Both 
his  arms,  above  the  elbows,  were  covered  with  rings  of  hippo- 
potamus hide,  to  which  were  attached  square  leathern  cases, 
containing  sentences  of  the  Koran,  as  charms  to  keep  away 
sickness  and  evil  spirits.  The  other  man,  Said,  was  a  Shy- 
gheean,  willing  and  good-natured  enough,  but  slow  and  regard- 
less of  truth,  as  all  Arabs  are.  Indeed,  the  best  definition  of 
an  Arab  which  I  can  give,  is — a  philosophizing  sinner.  His 
fatalism  gives  him  a  calm  and  equable  temperament  under  all 
rircumstances,  and  "God  wills  it!"  yt  "God  is  merciful!' 


CHARACTER    OF   THI     ARABS.  39? 

iV  the  solace  for  every  misfortune.  But  this  same  careless- 
ness to  the  usual  accidents  of  life  extends  also  to  his  speech  and 
his  dealings  with  other  men.  I  will  not  say  that  an  Arab 
never  speaks  truth  :  on  the  contrary,  he  always  does,  if  he 
happens  to  remember  it,  and  there  is  no  object  to  be  gained 
by  suppressing  it ;  but  rather  than  trouble  himself  to  answer 
correctly  a  question  which  requires  some  thought,  he  tells  you 
whatever  comes  uppermost  in  his  mind,  though  certain  to  be 
detected  the  next  minute.  He  is  like  a  salesman,  who,  if  he 
does  not  happen  to  have  the  article  you  want,  offers  you  some 
thing  else,  rather  than  let  you  go  away  empty-handed.  In 
regard  to  his  dealings,  what  Sir  Gardner  Wilkinson  says  of 
Egypt,  that  "  nobody  parts  with  money  without  an  effort  to 
defraud,"  is  equally  true  of  Nubia  and  Soudan.  The  people 
do  not  steal  outright ;  but  they  have  a  thousand  ways  of  doing 
it  in  an  indirect  and  civilized  manner,  and  they  are  perfect 
masters  of  all  those  petty  arts  of  fraud  which  thrive  so  greenly 
in  the  great  commercial  cities  of  Christendom.  With  these 
slight  drawbacks,  there  is  much  to  like  in  the  Arabs,  and  they 
are  certainly  the  most  patient,  assiduous  and  good-humored 
people  in  the  world.  If  they  fail  in  cheating  you,  they  r«- 
spect  you  the  more,  and  they  are  so  attentive  to  you,  so  ready 
to  take  their  mood  from  yours — to  laugh  when  you  are  cheer- 
ful, and  be  silent  when  you  are  grave — so  light-hearted  in  the 
performance  of  severe  duties,  that  if  you  commence  your  ac- 
quaintance by  despising,  you  finish  by  cordially  liking  them. 

On  a  journey  like  that  which  I  was  then  commencing,  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  to  preserve  a  good  understanding  with 
your  men  and  beasts ;  otherwise  travel  will  be  a  Usk,  and  a 
severe  one,  instead  of  a  recreation.  After  my  men  had  vainlj 


898  JC  CRNBT   TO    CENfRAL    AFRICA. 

tried  a  Dumber  of  expedients,  to  get  the  upper  baud  of  me,  1 
drilled  tbem  into  absolute  obedience,  and  found  tbeir  charac 
ter  much  improved  thereby.  With  my  dromedary,  whom  I 
called  Abou-Sin,  (the  Father  of  Teeth),  from  the  great  shekh 
of  the  Shukoree  Arabs,  to  whom  he  originally  belonged,  I  waa 
soon  on  good  terms.  He  was  a  beast  of  excellent  temper, 
with  a  spice  of  humor  in  his  composition,  and  a  fondness  for 
playing  practical  jokes.  But  as  I  always  paid  them  back, 
neither  party  could  complain,  though  Abou-Sin  sometimes 
gurgled  out  of  his  long  throat  a  string  of  Arabic  gutturals,  in 
remonstrance.  He  came  up  to  my  tent  and  knelt  at  precisely 
the  same  hour  every  evening,  to  get  his  feed  of  dourra,  and 
when  I  was  at  breakfast  always  held  his  lips  pursed  up,  ready 
to  take  the  pieces  of  bread  I  gave  him.  My  men,  whom  I  agreed 
to  provide  with  food  during  the  journey,  were  regaled  every 
day  with  mutton  and  mareesa,  the  two  only  really  good  things 
to  be  found  in  Soudan.  A  fat  sheep  cost  8  piastres  (40  cents), 
and  we  killed  one  every  three  days.  The  meat  was  of  excel- 
lent flavor.  Mareesa  is  made  of  the  coarse  grain  called  dour- 
ra, which  is  pounded  into  flour  by  hand,  mixed  with  water,  and 
heated  over  a  fire  in  order  to  produce  speedy  fermentation.  It 
is  always  drunk  the  day  after  being  made,  as  it  turns  sour  on 
the  third  day.  It  is  a  little  stronger  than  small  beer,  and  has 
a  taste  similar  to  wheat  bran,  unpleasant  on  the  first  trial  and 
highly  palatable  on  the  second.  A  jar  holding  two  gallons 
costs  one  piastre,  and  as  few  families,  however  poor,  are  with- 
out it,  we  always  found  plenty  of  it  for  sale  in  the  villages.  It 
is  nutritious,  promotive  of  digestion,  and  my  experience  went  to 
prove  tbat  it  was  not  only  a  harmless  but  most  wholesome  drink 
in  that  stifling  climate.  Om  bilbil,  the  mother  of  nightingales 


A   SOUDAN    DITTY.  39f, 

which  is  made  from  wheat,  is  stronger,  and  has  a  pungent 
flavor.  The  people  in  general  are  remarkably  temperate,  but 
sailors  and  camel-men  are  often  not  content  without  arakee,  a 
sort  of  weak  brandy  made  from  dates.  I  have  heard  this  song 
Bung  so  often  that  I  cannot  choose  but  recollect  the  words.  It 
is  in  the  Arabic  jargon  of  Soudan. : 

"El-toombak  sherstboo  dowaia, 
Oo  el  karafeen  ed  dowa  il  'es-sufaia, 
Oo  el  arakee  legheetoo  monnaia, 
Om  bilbil  bukkoosoo  burraia." 

[Tobacco  I  smoke  in  the  pipe ;  and  mareesa  is  a  medicine 
to  the  sufaia ;  (i.  e.  the  bag  of  palm  fibres  through  which  it  is 
strained),  but  arakee  makes  me  perfectly  contented,  and  then 
I  will  not  even  look  at  bilbil]. 

The  third  day  after  leaving  Khartoum,  I  reached  the 
mountains  of  Gerri,  through  which  the  Nile  breaks  his  way  in 
a  narrow  pass.  Here  I  hailed  as  an  old  acquaintance  the 
island-hill  of  Rowyan  (tne  watered,  or  unthirsty).  This  if 
truly  a  magnificent  peak,  notwithstanding  its  height  is  not 
more  than  seven  hundred  feet.  Neither  is  Soracte  high,  yet  it 
produces  a  striking  effect,  even  with  the  loftier  Apennines 
behind  it.  The  Rowyan  is  somewhat  similar  to  Soracte  in 
form.  There  are  a  few  trees  on  the  top,  which  shows  that 
there  must  be  a  deposit  of  soil  above  its  barren  ramparts,  and 
were  I  a  merchant  of  Khartoum  I  should  build  a  summer  resi 
dence  there,  and  by  means  of  hydraulics  create  a  grove  anc 
garden  around  it.  The  akaba,  or  desert  pass,  which  we  wert 
obliged  to  take  in  order  to  reach  the  river  again,  is  six  hours 
in  length,  through  a  wild,  stony  tract,  covered  with  immense 


400  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

boulders  of  granite,  hurled  and  heaped  together  in  the  sam« 
chaotic  manner  as  is  exhibited  in  the  rocks  between  Assouan 
and  Finite.  After  passing  the  range,  a  wide  plain  again  open- 
ed before  us,  the  course  of  the  Nile  marked  in  its  centre  by  the 
darker  hue  of  the  nebbuks  and  sycamores,  rising  above  the 
long  gray  belts  of  thorn-trees.  The  mountains  which  inclose 
the  fallen  temples  of  Mesowurat  and  Naga  appeared  far  to  the 
east.  The  banks  of  the  river  here  are  better  cultivated  than 
further  up  the  stream.  The  wheat,  which  was  just  sprouting, 
during  my  upward  journey,  was  now  two  feet  high,  and  rolled 
before  the  wind  in  waves  of  dark,  intense,  burning  green. 
The  brilliancy  of  color  in  these  mid- African  landscapes  is  truly 
astonishing. 

The  north-wind,  which  blew  the  sand  furiously  in  our  faces 
during  the  first  three  days  of  the  journey,  ceased  at  this  point 
and  the  weather  became  once  more  intensely  hot.  The  first 
two  or  three  hours  of  the  morning  were,  nevertheless,  deli- 
cious. The  temperature  was  mild,  and  there  was  a  June-like 
breeze  which  bore  far  and  wide  the  delicate  odor  of  the  mimo- 
sa blossoms.  The  trees  were  large  and  thick,  as  on  the  White 
Nile,  forming  long,  orchard-like  belts  between  the  grain-fields 
and  the  thorny  clumps  of  the  Desert.  The  flocks  of  black 
goats  which  the  natives  breed,  were  scattered  among  these 
trees,  and  numbers  of  the  animals  stood  perfectly  upright  on 
their  hind  legs,  as  they  nibbled  off  the  ends  of  the  higher 
branches. 

On  the  morning  after  leaving  Akaba  (Jerri,  I  had  two  al- 
tercations with  my  men.  Mohammed  had  left  Khartoum 
without  a  camel,  evidently  for  the  purpose  of  saving  money. 
In  a  day  or  two,  however,  he  limped  so  much  that  I  put  hin 


AN    ALTERCATION    WITH    THE    GUIDE.  401 

upon  Aclimet's  dromedary  for  a  few  hours.  This  was  an  im 
position,  for  every  guide  is  obliged  to  furnish  his  own  camel 
and  I  told  the  old  man  that  he  should  ride  no  more.  He  there- 
upon prevailed  upon  Said  to  declare  that  their  contract  was  to 
take  me  to  Amhukol,  instead  of  Merawe.  This,  considering 
that  the  route  had  been  distinctly  stated  to  them  by  Dr.  Reitz, 
in  my  presence,  and  put  in  writing  by  the  moodir,  Abdallah 
Effondi,  and  that  the  name  of  Ambukol  was  not  once  mention- 
ed, was  a  falsehood  of  the  most  brazen  character.  I  told  the 
men  they  were  liars,  and  that  sooner  than  yield  to  them  I 
would  return  to  Khartoum  and  have  them  punished,  where- 
upon they  saw  they  had  gone  too  far,  and  made  a  seeming  com- 
promise by  declaring  that  they  would  willingly  take  me  to 
Merawe,  if  I  wished  it. 

Towards  noon  we  reached  the  village  of  Derreira,  nearly 
opposite  the  picturesque  rapids  of  the  Nile.  I  gave  Moham- 
med half  a  piastre  and  sent  him  after  mareesa,  two  gallons  of 
which  he  speedily  procured.  A  large  gourd  was  filled  for  me, 
and  I  drank  about  a  quart  without  taking  breath.  Before  it 
had  left  my  lips,  I  experienced  a  feeling  of  vigor  and  elasticity 
throughout  my  whole  frame,  which  refreshed  me  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day.  Mohammed  stated  that  the  tents  of  some 
of  his  tribe  were  only  about  four  hours  distant,  and  asked  leave 
to  go  and  procure  a  camel,  promising  to  rejoin  us  at  El  Me- 
temma  the  next  day.  As  Said  knew  the  way,  and  could  have 
piloted  me  in  case  the  old  sinner  should  not  return,  I  gave 
him  leave  to  go. 

Achmet  and  I  rode  for  nearly  two  hours  over  a  stony, 
thorny  plain,  before  we  overtook  the  baggage  camels.  When 
at  last  we  came  in  sight  of  them,  the  brown  camel  was  running 


*02  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

loose  without  his  load  and  Said  trying  to  catch  him.  My  pro 
vision-chests  were  tumbled  upon  the  ground,  the  cafa&s  broken 
to  pieces  and  the  chickens  enjoying  the  liberty  of  the  Desert 
Sai'd,  it  seemed,  had  stopped  to  talk  with  some  women,  leaving 
the  camel,  which  was  none  too  gentle,  to  take  care  of  himself. 
Achmet  was  so  incensed  that  he  struck  the  culprit  in  the  face, 
whereupon  he  cried  out,  with  a  rueful  voice  :  "  ya  khosara  ! ' 
(oh,  what  a  misfortune  !).  After  half  an  hour's  labor  the 
boxes  were  repacked,  minus  their  broken  crockery,  the  chickens 
caught  and  the  camel  loaded.  The  inhabitants  of  this  region 
were  mostly  Shygheeans,  who  had  emigrated  thither.  They 
are  smaller  and  darker  than  the  people  of  MAhass,  but  resem- 
ble them  in  character.  In  one  of  the  villages  which  we  pass- 
ed, the  soog,  or  market,  was  being  held.  I  rode  through  the 
crowd  to  see  what  they  had  to  sell,  but  found  only  the  simplest 
articles  :  camels,  donkeys,  sheep,  goats  ;  mats,  onions,  butter, 
with  some  baskets  of  raw  cotton  and  pieces  of  stuff  spun  and 
woven  by  the  natives.  The  sales  must  be  principally  by  bar- 
ter, as  there  is  little  money  in  the  country. 

In  the  afternoon  we  passed  another  akaba,  even  more  diffi- 
cult for  camels  than  that  of  Gerri.  The  tracks  were  rough 
and  stony,  crossed  by  frequent  strata  of  granite  and  porphyry. 
From  the  top  of  one  of  the  ridges  I  had  a  fine  view  of  a  little 
valley  of  mimosas  which  lay  embayed  in  the  hills  and  washed 
by  the  Nile,  which  here  curved  grandly  round  from  west  to 
south,  his  current  glittering  blue  and  broad  in  the  sun.  The 
opposite  bank  was  flat  and  belted  with  wheat  fields,  beyond 
which  stretched  a  gray  forest  of  thorns  and  then  the  yellow  sa- 
rannas  of  Shendy,  walled  in  the  distance  by  long,  blue,  broken 
ranges  of  mountains.  The  summit  of  a  hill  near  our  read  was 


APPROACH  TO  EL  MK1KMMA.  408 

surrounded  with  a  thick  wall,  formed  of  natural  blocks  of  black 
porphyry.  It  had  square,  projecting  bastions  at  regular  inter- 
vals, and  an  entrance  on  the  western  side.  From  its  appear 
ance,  form  and  position,  it  had  undoubtedly  been  a  stronghold 
of  some  one  of  the  Arab  tribes,  and  can  claim  no  great  antiqui- 
ty. I  travelled  on  until  after  sunset,  when,  as  no  village  ap- 
peared, I  camped  in  a  grove  of  large  mimosas,  not  far  from 
the  Nile.  A  few  Shygheean  herdsmen  were  living  in  brush 
huts  near  at  hand,  and  dogs  and  jackals  howled  incessantly 
through  the  night. 

On  the  fifth  day  I  reached  the  large  town  of  El  Metemma, 
nearly  opposite  Shendy,  and  the  capital  of  a  negro  kingdom, 
before  the  Egyptian  usurpation.  The  road,  on  approaching  it, 
leads  over  a  narrow  plain,  covered  with  a  shrub  resembling 
heather,  bordered  on  one  side  by  the  river,  and  on  the  other 
by  a  long  range  of  bare  red  sand-hills.  We  journeyed  for 
more  than  three  hours,  passing  point  after  point  of  the  hills, 
only  to  find  other  spurs  stretching  out  ahead  of  us.  From  the 
intense  heat  I  was  very  anxious  to  reach  El  Metemma,  and 
was  not  a  little  rejoiced  when  I  discerned  a  grove  of  date-trees, 
which  had  been  pointed  out  to  me  from  Shendy,  a  month  before, 
as  the  landmark  of  the  place.  Soon  a  cluster  of  buildings  ap- 
peared on  the  sandy  slopes,  but  as  we  approached,  I  saw  they 
were  ruins.  We  turned  another  point,  and  reached  another 
group  of  tokuls  and  clay  houses — ruins  also.  Another  point, 
and  more  ruins,  and  so  for  more  than  a  mile  before  we  reach- 
ed the  town,  which  commences  at  the  last  spur  of  the  hill*, 
and  extends  along  the  plain  for  a  mile  and  a  half. 

It  is  a  long  mass  of  one-story  mud  buildings,  and  the  mosl 
miserable  place  of  its  size  that  I  have  seen  iu  Central  Africa 


404  JOCRNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

There  is  no  bazaar,  but  an  open  market-place,  where  the  peo- 
ple sit  on  the  ground  and  sell  their  produce,  consisting  of 
dourra,  butter,  dates,  onions,  tobacco  and  a  few  grass  mats. 
There  may  be  a  mosque  in  the  place,  but  in  the  course  of  ray 
tumble  through  the  streets,  I  saw  nothing  that  looked  like 
one.  Half  the  houses  appeared  to  be  uninhabited,  and  the 
natives  were  a  hideous  mixture  of  the  red  tribes  of  Mahass 
and  Shygheea  and  the  negro  races  of  Soudan.  A  few  people 
were  moving  lazily  through  the  dusty  and  filthy  lanes,  but  the 
greater  portion  were  sitting  in  the  earth,  on  the  shady  side  of 
the  houses.  In  one  of  the  streets  I  was  taken  for  the  Medical 
Inspector  of  the  town,  a  part  of  whose  business  it  is  to  see 
that  it  is  kept  free  from  filth.  Two  women  came  hastily  out 
of  the  houses  and  began  sweeping  vigorously,  saying  to  me  as 
I  came  up  :  "  You  see,  we  are  sweeping  very  clean."  It  would 
have  been  much  more  agreeable  to  me,  had  the  true  Inspector 
gone  his  rounds  the  day  before.  El  Metemma  and  Shendy  are 
probably  the  most  immoral  towns  in  all  Central  Africa.  The 
people  informed  me  that  it  was  a  regular  business  for  persons 
to  buy  female  slaves,  and  hire  them  for  the  purpose  of  prosti- 
tution, all  the  money  received  in  this  vile  way  going  into  tho 
owner's  pocket. 

I  was  occupied  the  rest  of  the  day  and  the  next  morning 
in  procuring  and  filling  additional  water-skins,  and  preparing 
to  cross  the  Beyooda,  Achmet  bad  a  quantity  of  bread  baked, 
for  the  journey  would  occupy  seven  or  eight  days,  and  there 
was  no  possibility  of  procuring  provisions  on  the  road.  Mo- 
hammed did  not  make  his  appearance  at  the  appointed  time, 
and  I  determined  to  start  without  him,  my  caravan  being  in- 
creased by  a  Congolese  merchant,  and  a  poor  Shygheean, 


OLD    At  QI-AIVTANCK8.  4OA 

whose  only  property  was  a  club  and  a  wooden  bowl,  and  who 
asked  leave  to  help  tend  the  camels  for  the  sake  of  food  and 
water  on  the  way.  All  of  the  Beyooda,  which  term  is  applied 
to  the  broad  desert  region  west  of  the  Nile  and  extending 
southward  from  Nubia  to  Kordofan  and  Dar-Fur,  is  infested 
with  marauding  tribes  of  Arabs,  and  though  at  present  their 
depredations  are  less  frequent  than  formerly,  still,  from  the 
total  absence  of  all  protection,  the  traveller  is  exposed  to  con- 
siderable risk.  For  this  reason,  it  is  not  usual  to  find  small 
parties  traversing  this  route,  as  in  the  Nubian  Desert. 

I  added  to  my  supplies  a  fat  sheep,  a  water-skin  filled  with 
mareesa,  a  sheaf  of  raw  onions  (which  are  a  great  luxury  in 
the  Desert),  and  as  many  fowls  as  could  be  procured  in  El 
Metemma.  Just  as  we  were  loading  the  camels,  who  should 
come  up  but  Beshir  and  two  or  three  more  of  the  Mahassee 
sailors,  who  had  formed  part  of  my  crew  from  Berber  to 
Khartoum.  They  came  up  and  kissed  my  hand,  exclaiming 
"  May  God  prosper  you,  0  Effendi  1 "  They  immediately  set 
about  helping  to  load  the  camels,  giving  us,  meanwhile,  news 
of  every  thing  that  had  happened.  Beshir's  countenance  fell 
when  I  asked  him  about  his  Metemma  sweetheart,  Gammer6- 
Betahadjero  ;  she  had  proved  faithless  to  him.  The  America 
was  again  on  her  way  from  Berber  to  Khartoum,  with  a  com- 
pany of  merchants.  The  old  slave,  Bakhita,  unable  to  bear 
the  imputation  of  being  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  old,  had  run 
away  from  the  vessel.  When  the  camels  were  loaded  and  we 
were  ready  to  mount,  I  gave  the  sailors  a  few  piastre*  to  buy 
ooareesa  and  sent  them  away  rejoicing, 


406  J.»HHN'KV     U>    CENTRAL     A.FRIOA. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 

THE      BBTOOOA      D  B  8  E  B  T. 

Eateiing  tue  Desert— Character  of  the  Scenery— Wells— Fear  of  th-  Arabs—The  L* 
loom  Tree— Effect  of  the  Hot  Wind — Mohammed  overtakes  us — Arab  Endurance— 
An  unpleasant  Bedfellow — Comedy  of  the  Crows — Gazelles — We  encounter  a  Sand- 
storm—The Mountain  of  Thirst— The  Wells  of  Djeekdud— A  Mountain  Pass- 
Desert  Intoxication— Scenery  of  the  Table-land— Bir  Khannik— The  Kababiali 
Arabs—  Gazelles  again— Ruins  of  an  Ancient  Coptic  Monastery—  Distant  View  of  the 
Nile  Valley— Djebel  Berkel— We  come  into  Port 

"  He  sees  the  red  sirocco  wheeling 

Its  sandy  columns  o'er  the  waste, 
And  streams  through  palmy  valleys  stealing, 
Where  the  plumed  ostrich  speeds  in  haste." — FRBILJQKATH. 

WE  left  El  Metemma  at  noon,  on  the  tenth  of  February. 
Crossing  the  low  ridge  of  red  sand,  at  the  foot  of  which  the 
town  is  built,  the  wind  came  fresh  to  meet  us,  across  the  long 
level  savanna  of  yellow  grass  and  shrubs  which  stretched  awaj 
to  the  west  and  north,  without  a  bound.  The  prospect  wae 
exhilarating,  after  the  continual  hem  of  thorns,  which  had  lined 
our  road  from  Khartoum.  It  was  a  great  relief  to  turn  the 
eye  from  the  bare,  scorching  mud  walls  of  the  town,  to  the 
freshness  and  freedom  of  the  Desert.  I  took  a  last  look  at  the 
wheat-fields  of  the  Nile,  and  then  turned  my  face  northward, 


BNTERINO    THE    DESERT.  401 

towards  the  point  where  I  expected  to  meet  bis  current  again. 
The  plain  was  very  level,  and  th>3  road  excellent  for  OUT 
camels.  In  places  where  there  was  a  slight  depression  of  the 
soil,  a  long,  slender  species  of  grass  grew  in  thick  tufts,  afford- 
ing nourishment  to  the  herds  of  the  wandering  Arab  tribes. 
There  were  also  narrow  belts  of  white  thorn  and  a  curious 
shrub,  with  leaves  resembling  the  jasmine.  In  two  hours  we 
reached  a  well,  where  some  Kababish  were  drawing  water  for 
their  goats  and  asses.  It  was  about  twenty  feet  deep,  and  the 
water  was  drawn  in  skins  let  down  with  ropes.  We  kept  on 
until  sunset,  when  we  encamped  in  an  open,  gravelly  space, 
surrounded  with  patches  of  grass,  on  which  the  camels  brows- 
ed. The  hot  weather  of  the  past  two  or  three  days  had  called 
into  life  a  multitude  of  winged  and  creeping  insects,  and  they 
assailed  me  on  all  sides. 

The  next  morning,  after  travelling  more  than  two  hours 
over  the  plain,  we  reached  a  series  of  low  hills,  or  rather  swells 
of  the  Desert,  covered  with  black  gravel  and  fragments  of  por- 
phyritic  rock.  They  appeared  to  be  outlying  spurs  of  a  moun- 
tain range  which  we  saw  to  the  northwest.  From  the  highest 
of  them  we  saw  before  us  a  long,  shallow  valley,  opening  far 
to  the  north-east.  It  was  thickly  covered  with  tufts  of  yellow- 
ish-green grass,  sprinkled  with  trees  of  various  kinds.  The 
merchant  pointed  out  a  grove  in  the  distance  as  the  location 
of  Bir  Abou-leer,  the  first  well  on  the  road.  His  sharp  eye 
discerned  a  company  of  Arabs,  who  were  encamped  near  it,  and 
who,  seeing  Achmet  and  myself  in  our  Turkish  dresses,  were 
preparing  to  fly.  He  urged  his  dromedary  into  a  fast  trot  and 
rode  ahead  to  reassure  them.  They  were  a  tall,  wild-looking 
people,  very  scantily  dressed ;  the  men  had  long  black  hair 


408  JOURNEY  TO  CENTRAL  ATRIOA. 

moustaches  and  beards,  and  carried  spears  in  their  handb 
They  looked  at  us  with  suspicion,  but  did  not  refuse  the  cus- 
tomary "  hab-bab-ba  1"  The  wells  were  merely  pits,  not  more 
than  four  or  five  feet  deep,  dug  in  the  clayey  soil,  and  contain- 
ing at  the  bottom  a  constant  supply  of  cool,  sweet  water.  We 
watered  our  camels  in  basins  scooped  for  that  purpose  in  the 
earth,  and  then  took  breakfast  under  the  thorns.  Among  the 
trees  in  the  wady  was  one  resembling  the  nebbuk  in  foliage,  and 
with  a  fruit  similar  in  appearance,  but  larger  and  of  different 
flavor.  The  Arabs  called  it  laloom,  and  gathered  some  of  the 
fruit  for  me  to  taste.  It  has  a  thin,  brittle  outer  rind,  con- 
taining a  hard  stone,  covered  with  a  layer  of  gummy  paste, 
most  intensely  sweet  and  bitter  in  the  mouth.  It  has  precise- 
ly the  flavor  of  the  medicine  known  to  children  as  Hive  Syrup, 
We  resumed  our  course  along  the  wady,  nearly  to  its  ter- 
mination at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  when  the  road  turned 
to  the  right  over  another  succession  of  hard,  gravelly  ridges, 
flanked  on  the  west  by  hills  of  coal-black  porphyry.  During 
the  afternoon  the  wind  was  sometimes  as  hot  as  a  furnace- 
blast,  and  I  felt  m}  very  blood  drying  up  in  its  intensity.  I 
had  no  means  of  ascertaining  the  temperature,  but  it  could  not 
have  been  less  than  105°.  Nevertheless,  the  sky  was  so  clear 
and  blue,  the  sunshine  so  perfect,  and  the  Desert  so  inspiring 
that  I  was  in  the  most  exulting  mood.  In  fact,  the  powerful 
dry  heat  of  the  air  produced  upon  me  a  bracing  effect,  similar 
to  that  of  sharp  cold.  It  gave  me  a  sensation  of  fierce,  savaga 
«igor,  and  I  longed  for  an  Arab  lance  and  the  fleet  hoofs  of 
the  red  stallion  I  had  left  in  Khartoum.  At  times  the  burn- 
ing blasts  were  flavored  with  a  strong  aromatic  odor,  like  that 
of  dried  lavender,  which  was  as  stimulating  to  the  lungs  aa 


MOHAMMED    OVERTAKES    US.  40V» 

herb-tea  to  the  stomach.  Our  provisions  soon  felt  the  effects 
of  this  continual  dry  heat.  Dates  became  as  pebbles  of  jasper, 
and  when  I  asked  my  servant  for  bread,  he  gave  me  a  stone. 

As  we  were  journeying  along  over  the  plain,  we  spied  a 
man  on  a  camel  trotting  behind  us,  and  in  half  an  hour,  lo ! 
Mohammed  the  guide.  The  old  scamp  came  up  with  a 
younger  brother  behind  him,  whom  he  had  brought  without 
asking  permission,  and  without  bringing  food  for  him.  This 
made  eight  persons  I  was  obliged  to  feed,  and  as  our  bread 
and  meat  were  only  calculated  for  six,  I  put  them  on  allow- 
ance. Mohammed  had  his  hair  newly  plaited  and  covered 
with  a  layer  of  mutton-fat,  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick.  I  saw 
very  little  of  the  vaunted  temperance  of  the  Arabs.  True, 
they  will  live  on  dates — when  they  can  get  nothing  else ;  and 
they  will  go  without  water  for  a  day — when  they  have  none. 
I  found  a  quart  of  water  daily  amply  sufficient  for  my  own 
needs,  notwithstanding  the  great  heat  we  endured ;  but  I  do 
not  think  one  of  the  men  drank  less  than  a  gallon  in  the  same 
time,  and  as  for  their  eating,  Achmet  frequently  declared  that 
they  would  finish  a  whole  sheep  before  getting  to  "el  hamdu 
lillah  ! " — the  usual  Arabic  grace  after  meat. 

Towards  sunset  we  reached  an  open  space  of  ground  which 
had  not  been  touched  since  the  rains  of  the  previous  summer. 
The  soil  had  been  washed  smooth  and  then  dried  away  in  the 
sun,  leaving  a  thin,  cracked  crust,  like  that  which  frequently 
forms  after  a  light  snow-fall.  Our  camel's  feet  broke  through 
at  every  step,  making  the  only  trails  which  crossed  it,  except 
those  of  gazelles  and  vulture'  Achmet  was  about  to  pitch 
my  tent  near  some  snaky-looking  holes,  but  I  had  it  moved  to 
»  clearer  spot.  I  slept  without  interruption,  but  in  the  morn* 
18 


410  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

ing,  as  he  was  about  to  roll  up  my  mattrass,  he  suddenly  let  h 
drop  and  rushed  out  of  the  tent,  exclaiming :  "  Oh  master 
come  out !  come  out !  There  is  a  great  snake  in  your  bed  ! " 
I  looked,  and  truly  enough,  there  was  an  ugly  spotted  reptile 
coiled  up  on  the  straw  matting.  The  men  heard  the  alarm, 
and  my  servant  Ali  immediately  came  running  up  with  a  club. 
As  he  was  afraid  to  enter  the  tent,  he  threw  it  to  me,  and 
with  one  blow  I  put  the  snake  beyond  the  power  of  doing 
harm.  It  was  not  more  than  two  feet  long,  but  thick  and  club- 
shaped;  and  with  a  back  covered  with  green,  brown  and  yellow 
scales,  very  hard  and  bright.  The  Arabs,  who  by  this 
time  had  come  to  the  rescue,  said  it  was  a  most  venomous 
creature,  its  bite  causing  instant  death.  "Allah  kereemf" 
(God  is  merciful !)  I  exclaimed,  and  they  all  heartily  respond- 
ed :  "  God  be  praised ! "  They  said  that  the  occurrence  de- 
noted long  life  to  me.  Although  no  birds  were  to  be  seen  at 
the  time,  not  ten  minutes  had  elapsed  before  two  large  crows 
appeared  in  the  air.  After  wheeling  over  us  once  or  twice, 
they  alighted  near  the  snake.  At  first,  they  walked  around  it 
at  a  distance,  occasionally  exchanging  glances,  and  turning  up 
their  heads  in  a  shrewd  manner,  which  plainly  said :  "  No  you 
don't,  old  fellow !  want  to  make  us  believe  you're  dead,  do 
you  ? "  They  bantered  each  other  to  take  hold  of  it  first,  and 
at  last  the  boldest  seized  it  suddenly  by  the  tail,  jumped  back- 
ward two  or  three  feet  and  then  let  it  fall  He  looked  at  the 
other,  as  much  as  to  say :  "  If  he's  not  dead,  it's  a  capital 
sham  1 "  The  other  made  a  similar  essay,  after  which  they 
alternately  dragged  and  shook  it,  and  consulted  some  time, 
before  they  agreed  that  it  was  actually  dead.  One  of  them 
then  took  it  by  the  tail  and  sailed  off  through  the  ail ,  its  scales 
glittering  in  the  sun  as  it  dangled  downward. 


WF.    KXCOrXTEK    A    SAND-STORM.  411 

On  the  third  day  we  left  the  plain  and  entered  on  a  tegior 
of  black,  stony  ridges,  with  grass  and  thorns  in  the  lorig  hcl- 
lows  between  them.  The  sky  was  so  clear  that  the  nr.o<.a  (ir 
her  last  quarter)  was  visible  until  nearly  noon.  About  ten 
o'clock,  from  one  of  the  porphyry  hills,  I  caught  sight  of 
Ojebel  Attshau,  or  the  Mountain  of  Thirst,  which  crosses  the 
middle  of  the  Beyooda.  It  was  in  the  north  and  north  west, 
apparently  about  thirty  miles  distant  During  the  morning 
I  saw  four  beautiful  gazelles,  not  more  than  a  stone's  throw 
distant.  One  of  them  was  lame,  which  induced  me  to  believe 
that  I  could  catch  it.  I  got  down  from  my  camel  and  crept 
stealthily  to  the  crest  of  the  ridge,  but  when  I  looked  down 
the  other  side,  no  gazelle  was  to  be  seen.  Half  a  dozen  nar 
row  gullies  branched  away  among  the  loose  mounds  of  stones, 
and  further  search  would  have  been  useless. 

At  noon  we  reached  another  and  different  region.  The 
grass  and  thorns  disappeared,  and  the  swells  of  black  gravel 
gave  place  to  long  drifts  of  bright  yellow  sand  which  extended  on 
all  sides  as  fur  as  the  eye  could  reach.  We  toiled  on,  over  drift 
after  drift,  but  there  was  still  the  same  dreary  yellow  waste, 
whitening  in  the  distance  under  the  glare  of  the  sun.  At  first, 
the  air  was  so  tremulous  with  the  radiated  heat,  that  the  whole 
landscape  glittered  and  wavered  like  the  sea,  and  the  brain 
became  giddy  from  gazing  on  its  unsteady  lines.  But  as  the 
wind  began  to  blow  more  violently,  this  disappeared.  The 
uky  then  became  obscured  nearly  to  the  zenith,  with  a  dull 
purple  haze,  arising  from  the  myriads  of  fine  grains  of  sand 
with  which  the  air  was  filled.  The  sun  became  invisible, 
although  there  were  no  clouds  in  the  sky,  and  we  seemed  to  be 
journeying  under  a  firmament  of  rusty  copper.  The  drifts 


412  JOUKNKV    TO    C'KXTHAL    AFRICA. 

irere  constantly  forming  and  changing  shape,  and  the  sand 
vibrated  along  their  edges  or  scudded  in  swift  ripples  over  tht 
plain,  with  that  dry,  sharp  sound  one  hears  in  winter  when 
the  "  North-wind's  masonry"  is  going  on.  The  air  was  with- 
ering in  its  fierce  heat  and  occasioned  intense  thirst,  which, 
fortunately,  we  were  able  to  relieve.  The  storm  grew  more 
violent  and  the  burning  labyrinths  of  sand  more  intricate,  as 
we  advanced.  The  path  was  hidden  under  drifts  five  or  six  feet 
in  height,  and  the  tall  yellow  walls  were  creeping  every  minute 
nearer,  to  cover  it  completely.  The  piles  of  stones,  however, 
which  the  Arabs  have  made  on  the  tops  of  the  ridges  and 
replace  as  often  as  they  are  thrown  down,  guided  us,  and  after 
three  hours  and  a  half  in  a  spot  which  might  serve  as  the 
fourth  circle  of  Dante's  Hell,  we  emerged  on  the  open  plain 
and  saw  again  the  Mountain  of  Thirst,  which  had  been  hidden 
all  this  time.  The  camels,  which  were  restless  and  uneasy  in 
the  sand,  now  walked  more  cheerily.  The  sun  came  out  again, 
but  the  sky  still  retained  its  lurid  purple  hue.  We  all  drank 
deeply  of  the  brown  leathery  contents  of  our  water-skins  and 
pushed  steadily  onward  till  camping-time,  at  sunset.  While 
the  storm  lasted,  the  Arabs  crouched  close  under  the  flanks  of 
the  camels  and  sheltered  themselves  from  the  sand.  Achmet 
*nd  the  Dongolese  merchant  unrolled  their  turbans  and 
muffled  them  around  their  faces,  but  on  following  their  exam- 
ple I  experienced  such  a  stifling  sensation  of  heat  that  I  at 
once  desisted,  and  rode  with  my  head  exposed  as  usual. 

We  halted  in  a  meadow-like  hollow,  full  of  abundant  grass, 
in  which  the  weary  camels  made  amends  for  their  hardships. 
The  wind  howled  so  fiercely  around  my  tent  that  I  went  to 
Bleep  expecting  to  have  it  blown  about  my  ears  before  morn 


THE    WELLS    OF    DJEEKDUD.  418 

Ing.  Djebel  Attshan  was  dimly  visible  in  tbe  starlight,  and 
we  saw  tbe  ligbt  of  fires  kindled  by  tbe  Arabs- wbo  live  at  the 
WL'lls  of  Djeekdud.  Said  was  anxious  to  go  on  to  the  well? 
and  have  a  carouse  with  the  natives,  and  when  I  refused 
threatened  to  leave  me  and  go  on  alone  to  Merawe.  "  Go  1 ' 
said  I,  "just  as  soon  as  you  like" — but  this  was  the  very  thing 
he  did  not  want.  The  heat  which  I  had  absorbed  through  the 
day  began  to  ooze  out  again  as  the  temperature  of  the  air  fell, 
and  my  body  glowed  until  midnight  like  a  mass  of  molten 
metal.  On  lifting  up  my  blanket,  that  night,  a  large  scorpion 
tumbled  out,  but  scampered  away  so  quickly  that  we  could  not 
kill  him. 

We  were  up  betimes  the  next  morning,  and  off  for  Bii 
Djeekdud.  At  ten  o'clock  we  entered  a  wide  valley  extending 
to  the  southern  base  of  the  mountains.  It  was  quite  over- 
grown with  bushy  tufts  of  grass  and  scattering  clumps  of 
trees.  Herds  of  goats  and  sheep,  with  a  few  camels  and  don- 
keys, were  browsing  over  its  surface,  and  I  saw  the  Arab  herds- 
men at  a  distance.  The  wells  lie  in  a  narrow  wady,  shut  in  by 
the  mountains,  about  two  miles  east  of  the  caravan  track.  We 
therefore  halted  in  the  shade  of  a  spreading  mimosa,  and  sent 
Said  and  the  guide's  brother  with  the  water-skins.  I  took  my 
breakfast  leisurely,  and  was  lying  on  my  back,  half  lulled  to 
sleep  by  the  singing  of  the  wind,  when  the  Dongolese  arrived. 
He  gave  us  to  drink  from  his  fresh  supply  of  water,  and  in- 
formed us  that  the  wells  in  the  valley  were  not  good,  but  that 
there  was  a  deposit  in  the  rocks  above,  which  was  pure  and 
Bweet.  I  therefore  sent  Ali  off  in  all  haste  on  one  of  my 
dromedaries,  to  have  my  skins  filled  from  the  latter  place; 
which  occasioned  a  further  delay  of  two  hours.  An  Arab 


414  JOUKXKY    TO    CENTRAL    AFK10A. 

family  of  the  small  Saurat  tribe,  which  inhabits  that  region, 
was  encamped  -at  a  little  distance,  but  did  not  venture  to 
approach. 

Ali  described  the  well  as  a  vast  natural  hollow  in  the 
porphyry  rock,  in  the  centre  of  a  basin,  or  valley,  near  the  top 
of  the  mountain.  The  water  is  held  as  in  a  tank ;  it  is  from 
twenty  to  thirty  feet  deep,  and  as  clear  as  crystal.  The  taste 
is  deliciously  pure  and  fresh.  If  I  had  known  this  in  time,  I 
should  have  visited  the  place.  The  valley  of  Djeekdud  IB 
about  two  miles  broad,  inclosed  on  the  north  by  the  dark-red 
porphyry  rocks  of  the  Mountain  of  Thirst,  and  on  the  south  by 
a  smaller  group  of  similar  formation.  It  is  crossed  in  two 
places  by  broad  strata  of  red  granite.  As  water  can  readily 
be  obtained  in  any  part  of  it  by  digging,  the  whole  of  it  is 
capable  of  cultivation. 

Leaving  our  halting  place,  we  journeyed  westward  through 
a  gate  of  the  mountains  into  a  broader  valley,  where  numerous 
herds  of  sheep  were  feeding.  I  saw  but  few  Arabs,  and  those 
were  mostly  children,  who  had  charge  of  the  herds.  The 
tribe  resides  principally  in  the  mountains,  on  account  of  great- 
er security  against  the  attacks  of  enemies.  The  afternoon  was 
hot  like  all  preceding  ones,  and  my  Arabs  drank  immense 
quantities  of  water.  We  kept  on  our  course  until  five  o'clock, 
when  we  encamped  opposite  a  broad  valley,  which  broke  into 
the  mountains  at  right  angles  to  their  course.  It  was  a  wild 
Bpot,  and  the  landscape,  barren  as  it  was,  possessed  much 
natural  beauty.  During  the  afternoon  we  left  the  high  road  to 
Ambukol,  and  took  a  branch  track  leading  to  Merawe,  which 
lay  more  to  the  northward. 

The  next  morning,  after  skirting  the  porphyry  range  foj 


DESERT    INTOXIPATIDK,  41ft 

several  hours,  we  entered  a  narrow  valley  leading  into  ita 
depths.  The  way  was  stony  and  rough,  and  we  travelled  for 
three  hours,  constantly  ascending,  up  the  dry  bed  of  a  summei 
stream.  The  mountains  rose  a  thousand  feet  above  us  in 
some  places.  Near  the  entrance  of  the  valley,  we  passed  an 
Arab  watering  a  large  flock  of  sheep  at  a  pool  of  green  water 
which  lay  in  a  hollow  of  the  rocks.  After  ascending  the  pass 
for  nearly  four  hours,  we  crossed  the  summit  ridge  and  enter- 
ed on  a  high  table-land,  eight  or  ten  miles  in  length  and 
entirely  surrounded  by  branches  of  the  mountain  chain.  The 
plain  was  thinly  covered  with  grass,  mimosas  and  nebbuk, 
among  which  a  single  camel  was  browsing.  At  night  we 
reached  the  opposite  side,  and  encamped  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty 
black  spur  of  the  mountains,  not  far  from  a  well  which  Moham- 
med called  Bir  Abou-Seray. 

During  the  night  I  was  troubled  with  a  heavy  feeling  in 
the  head,  and  found  it  almost  impossible  to  sleep.  I  arose 
with  a  sensation  of  giddiness,  which  continued  all  day.  At 
times  I  found  it  very  difficult  to  maintain  my  seat  on  the 
dromedary  It  required  a  great  effort  to  keep  my  eyes  open, 
as  the  sunshine  increased  the  symptoms.  This  condition 
affected  my  mind  in  a  singular  manner.  Past  scenes  in  my 
life  revived,  with  so  strong  an  impression  of  reality,  that  I  no 
longer  knew  where  I  was.  The  hot,  yellow  landscape  around 
me,  was  a  dream  ;  the  cries  of  my  camel-drivers  were  fantastic 
wunds  which  my  imagination  had  conjured  up.  After  a  most 
bewildering  and  fatiguing  day,  I  drank  several  cups  of  strong 
tea,  rolled  myself  in  a  thick  cotton  quilt,  and  sweat  to  distrac- 
tion until  morning.  The  moisture  I  lost  relieved  my  head,  as 
a  shower  clean  a  sultry  aky,  and  the  symptoms  gradually  left 


410  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

me.  Whether  they  were  caused  by  breathing  a  more  rarefiec 
atmosphere, — for  the  plain  was  nearly  fifteen  hundred  feet 
above  the  Nile  level — in  a  heat  more  than  usually  intense,  or 
by  an  attack  of  that  malady  which  Richardson  aptly  calls  the 
"  intoxication  of  the  Desert,"  I  cannot  decide. 

After  leaving  Bir  Abou-Seray,  we  continued  our  slow  de- 
scent of  the  northern  side  of  the  mountain  range,  by  a  wind- 
ing valley,  following  the  dry  bed  of  a  summer  river.  The 
mountains  were  a  thousand  feet  high  and  linked  in  regular 
ranges,  which  had  a  general  north-east  and  south-west  direc- 
tion. The  landscapes  of  the  day  were  all  exceedingly  wild 
and  picturesque.  The  vegetation  was  abundant  along  the 
banks  of  the  river-bed,  the  doum-palm  appearing  occasionally 
among  the  groves  of  thorn  and  nebbuk.  In  some  places  the 
river  had  washed  the  bases  of  the  mountains  and  laid  bare 
their  huge  strata  of  rock,  whose  round  black  masses  glittered 
in  the  sunshine,  showing  the  gradual  polish  of  the  waves. 
Towards  noon  the  pass  enlarged  into  a  broad  plain,  six  miles 
in  diameter,  and  entirely  bounded  by  mountains.  To  the  north- 
east it  opened  into  another  and  larger  plain,  across  whose  blue 
Burface  rose  the  pyramidal  peaks  of  a  higher  mountain  chain 
than  I  had  yet  seen.  Some  of  them  were  upwards  of  two 
thousand  feet  in  height.  The  scenery  here  was  truly  grand 
and  imposing.  Beyond  the  plain  we  passed  into  a  broader 
valley,  girdled  by  lower  hills.  The  river-bed,  which  we  crossed 
from  time  to  time,  increased  in  breadth  and  showed  a  more 
dense  vegetation  on  its  banks.  We  expected  to  have  reached 
another  well,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  it  at  sunset,  and  as  I 
had  already  found  that  my  guide,  Mohammed,  knew  nothing 
of  the  road,  I  encamped  at  once. 


A    BARBARIC    SCENE.  411 

We  arose  by  daybreak,  hoping  to  reach  the  Nile.  Aftei 
somewhat  more  than  two  hours'  journey,  we  met  a  caravan  ot 
about  three  hundred  camels,  laden  with  bales  of  cotton  drill- 
mgs  for  the  clothing  of  the  new  regiments  of  soldiers  then 
being  raised  in  Soudan.  The  foremost  camels  were  a  mile 
from  Bir  Khannik,  while  the  hindmost  were  still  drinking  at 
the  well.  The  caravan  had  Kababish  drivers  and  guides — 
wild,  long-haired,  half-naked  Arabs,  with  spears  in  their  hands 
and  shields  of  hippopotamus  hide  on  their  shoulders.  They 
told  us  we  were  still  a  day  and  a  half  from  Merawe.  We  rode 
on  to  the  well,  which  was  an  immense  pit,  dug  in  the  open 
plain.  It  was  about  fifty  feet  deep,  and  the  Arabs  were  oblig- 
ed to  draw  the  water  in  skins  let  down  with  ropes.  The  top 
curved  into  the  well  like  a  shallow  bowl,  from  the  earth  con- 
tinually crumbling  down,  and  the  mouth  of  the  shaft  was  pro- 
tected by  trunks  of  trees,  on  which  the  men  stood  while  they 
drew  the  water.  Around  the  top  were  shallow  basins  lined  with 
clay,  out  of  which  the  camels  drank.  The  fierce  Kababish 
were  shouting  and  gesticulating  on  all  sides  as  we  rode  up- 
some  leading  the  camels  to  kneel  and  drink,  some  holding  the 
water-skins,  and  others  brandishing  their  spears  and  swords  in 
angry  contention.  Under  the  hot  sun,  on  the  sandy  plain,  it 
was  a  picture  truly  mid- African  in  all  its  features.  The  water 
had  an  insipid,  brackish  taste,  and  I  was  very  glad  that  I  had 
prevented  my  Arabs  from  drinking  all  we  had  brought  from 
she  porphyry  fountain  of  Djeekdud  We  watered  our  camels, 
however,  which  detained  us  long  enough  to  see  a  fight  be- 
tween two  of  the  Kababish  guides.  There  were  so  many 
persons  to  interfere  that  neither  could  injure  the  other,  but 
the  whole  group  of  actors  and  sympathizers  struggling  on 
18* 


118  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

the  brink  of  the  well,  came  near  being  precipitated  to  the 
bottom. 

Our  road  now  turned  to  the  north,  through  a  gap  in  th« 
low  hills  and  over  a  tract  of  burnt,  barren,  rolling  wastes  of 
white  sand  and  gravel  Towards  evening  we  came  again  to 
the  river-bed,  here  broad  and  shallow.  This  part  of  the  Desert 
is  inhabited  by  the  Saurat  and  Huni  tribes,  and  we  saw  large 
herds  of  sheep  and  goats  wherever  the  halfeh  grass  abounded. 
At  sunset  there  were  no  signs  of  the  Nile,  so  I  had  the  ten* 
pitched  in  the  middle  of  the  dry  river-channel.  In  front  oi 
us,  on  a  low  mound,  the  red  walls  of  a  ruined  building  shone 
in  the  last  rays  of  the  sun. 

The  next  day — the  eighth  since  leaving  El  Metemma — wafl 
intensely  hot  and  sultry,  without  a  breath  of  air  stirring. 
While  walking  towards  the  ruins,  I  came  upon  two  herds  of 
gazelles,  so  tame  that  I  approached  within  thirty  yards,  and 
could  plainly  see  the  expression  of  surprise  and  curiosity  in 
their  dark  eyes.  When  I  came  too  near,  they  would  bleat  like 
lambs,  bound  away  a  little  distance  and  then  stop  again.  The 
building,  which  stood  on  the  stony  slope  of  a  hill,  was  sur- 
rounded with  loose  walls,  in  a  dilapidated  condition.  The 
foundation,  rising  about  six  feet  above  the  earth,  is  stone, 
above  which  the  walls  are  of  brick,  covered  with  a  thin  coating 
of  cement.  The  building  is  about  eighty  fret  in  length  by 
forty  in  breadth,  but  the  walls  which  remain  are  not  more  than 
twenty  feet  high.  It  is  believed  to  have  been  an  ancient  Cop- 
tic monastery,  and  probably  dates  from  the  earlier  ages  of 
Christianity.  The  ruins  of  other  houses,  built  of  loose  stones, 
surround  the  principal  edifice,  which  was  undoubtedly  a  church 
and  the  ground  around  is  strewn  with  fragments  of  burnt  brick 


DISTANT    VIEW    OF    THE    NILE.  419 

and  pottery.  There  is  a  churchyard  near  at  hand,  with 
tombstones  which  contain  inscriptions  both  in  Greek  and 
Coptic. 

We  rode  slowly  down  the  broad  river-bed,  which  gradually 
widened,  and  after  two  or  three  hours  saw  far  in  advance  a  line 
of  red,  glowing  sand-hills,  which  I  knew  could  not  be  on  the 
southern  side  of  the  Nile.  Still  we  went  on,  under  the  clear, 
hot  sky,  the  valley  widening  into  a  plain  the  while,  and  I 
sought  anxiously  for  some  sign  that  the  weary  Desert  was 
crossed.  Finally,  I  saw,  above  the  endless  clusters  of  thorns, 
a  line  of  darker,  richer  green,  far  away  in  the  burning  distance, 
and  knew  it  to  be  a  grove  of  date-palms — the  glorious  signal 
of  the  Nile.  This  put  new  life  into  me,  and  thenceforth  I  felt 
the  scorching  heat  no  longer.  To  the  north,  beyond  the 
palms,  appeared  an  isolated  mountain  of  singular  form — the 
summit  being  flat  and  the  sides  almost  perpendicular.  It  must 
be  Djebel  Berkel,  I  thought,  and  I  told  Mohammed  so,  but  he 
said  it  was  not.  Just  then,  I  saw  an  Arab  herdsman  among 
the  thorns  and  called  out  to  him  to  know  the  name  of  the 
mountain.  "  Djebel  Berkel,"  said  he.  He  then  accosted  Mo- 
hammed :  "  Where  are  you  going?"  "  To  Merawe."  "Are 
you  the  guide  ?  "  he  again  inquired,  bursting  into  a  loud  laugh. 
"  You  are  a  fine  guide ;  there  is  Merawe  ! "  pointing  in  a  di- 
rection very  different  from  that  we  were  going.  This  complet- 
ed the  old  fellow's  discomfiture.  We  were  still  five  or  six 
miles  distant  from  the  river  and  took  a  random  path  over  the 
plain,  in  the  direction  indicated  by  the  herdsman.  The  palms 
rose  higher  and  showed  a  richer  foliage ;  mud  walls  appeared 
in  their  shade,  and  a  tall  minaret  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
river  pointed  out  the  location  of  the  town.  I  rode  down  on* 


420  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

of  the  drear,  hot  sand — the  sea  where  I  had  been  drifting  fo! 
seven  wearisome  days — to  the  little  village  of  Abdom,  embow- 
ered in  a  paradise  of  green  ;  palms  above,  dazzling  wheat-fields 
dark  cotton-fields  and  blossoming  beans  below.  A.  blessed 
resting-plaoe ! 


OUR    WHEREABOUTS. 


421 


Sbekh  Abd  e'-DjebiL 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 


THREE       DAYS       AT       NAPATA. 

)ur  whereabouta— Sht-kh  Mohammed  Abd  e'-Djebal— My  residence  at  Abd6m — OTOM 
Ing  the  River— A  Superb  Landscape— The  Town  of  Merawe— Ride  to  Djebel  Berka 
— The  Temples  of  Napata— Ascent  of  the  Mountain — Ethiopian  Panorama — Lost 
and  Found — The  Pyramids — The  Governor  of  Merawe — A  Scene  In  the  Divan — 
The  Shekh  and  I— The  Governor  Dines  with  me — Ruins  of  the  City  of  Napata— 
A  Talk  about  Religious— Engaging  Camels  for  Wadi-Halfa— The  Shekh's  Parting 
Blessing. 

"Under  the  palm-trees  by  the  river's  side." — KKATS, 

ABDOM,  the  friendly  haven  into  which  I  had  drifted  after  &n 
Bight  days'  voyage  in  the  fiery  sea  of  the  Desert,  is  a  village 
on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Nile,  which,  after  passing  Abou- 
Hammed,  flows  to  the  south-west  and  south  untill  it  reachet 


422  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

the  frontier  of  Dongola.  On  the  opposite  bank  is  Merawe,  the 
former  capital  of  Bar  Shygheea,  which  must  not  be  confounded 
with  the  ancient  Meroe,  the  ruins  of  which,  near  Shendy,  I 
have  already  described.  True,  the  identity  of  the  names  at 
Grst  deceived  antiquarians,  who  supposed  the  temple^  and  pyra- 
mids in  this  neighborhood  to  have  belonged  to  the  capital  of 
ihe  old  Hierarchy  of  Meroe  ;  but  it  is  now  satisfactorily  estab- 
lished that  they  mark  the  site  of  Napata,  the  capital  of  Ethio- 
pia up  to  the  time  of  the  Caesars.  It  was  the  limit  of  the  cele- 
brated expedition  of  the  Roman  soldiers,  under  Petronius. 
Djebel  Berkel,  at  whose  base  the  principal  remains  are  found, 
is  in  lat.  18°  35',  or  thereabouts. 

I  was  welcomed  to  Abdom  by  the  Shekh  or  holy  man  of 
the  place,  who  met  me  on  the  verge  of  the  Desert,  and  con- 
ducted me  to  the  best  of  his  two  houses.  Shekh  Mohammed, 
Abd  e'-Djebal  (Mohammed,  the  Slave  of  the  Mountains),  was  a 
dignified  old  man  of  sixty,  with  a  gray  beard  and  brown  com- 
plexion, and  was  the  owner  of  a  water-mill,  several  fields  of 
wheat  and  cotton,  and  an  abundance  of  palm-trees.  He  had 
two  wives,  each  of  whom,  with  her  family,  occupied  a  separate 
house — a  great  mark  of  discretion  on  the  part  of  Mohammed. 
Domestic  quiet  was  thus  secured  to  him,  while  he  possessed 
that  in  which  the  Arab  most  glories  and  rejoices — a  numerous 
family  of  children.  His  youngest  wife,  a  woman  of  thirty, 
immediately  vacated  the  house  on  my  arrival,  and  took  up  her 
temporary  residence  in  a  tent  of  palm-matting,  with  her  four 
children.  The  dwelling  into  which  I  was  ushered  was  a 
square  structure  of  clay,  one  story  high,  with  one  door  and  no 
windows.  It  had  a  flat  roof  of  palm  logs,  covered  with  thatch, 
and  the  inside  walls  were  hung  with  large  mats,  plaited  with 


MY    RESIDENCE    AT    AB1>OM.  423 

brilliantly-colored  palm  bladea  Fancy  vessels  of  baked  clay, 
baskets,  ostrich  eggs,  and  other  ornaments  were  suspended 
from  the  roof  in  slings  of  palm  fibre,  and  a  very  large  white 
mat  covered  half  the  floor.  Here  my  bed  was  laid,  and  my 
camp-stool,  placed  in  front  of  it,  formed  a  table.  The  Shekh 
who  was  with  me  nearly  all  the  time  of  my  stay,  sat  on  the 
floor  in  front  of  me,  and  never  entered  or  departed  from  the 
house,  without  saying  " Bismillahi"  ("in  the  name  of  God"), 
as  he  crossed  the  threshold.  Outside  of  the  door  was  a  broad 
divan,  running  along  the  north  side  of  the  house.  It  therefore 
pointed  towards  Mecca  and  was  a  most  agreeable  praying-placo 
for  the  holy  man.  On  my  arrival,  after  first  having  taken  a 
bath  in  the  Nile,  I  sat  there  the  rest  of  the  day,  tasting  the 
luxury  of  coolness  and  shade,  and  steeping  my  eyes  in  the  balm 
of  refreshing  colors.  A  clump  of  some  twenty  date-trees  grew 
in  front  of  the  door,  throwing  over  us  a  gorgeous  canopy  of 
leaves.  Fields  of  wheat  in  head,  waist-deep,  surrounded  the 
house,  insulating  it  in  a  sea  of  greenness,  over  which  I  saw  the 
hills  ot  the  Desert,  no  longer  terrible,  but  soft  and  fair  and 
far  as  clouds  smouldering  in  the  roseate  fires  of  an  Eastern 
sunrise. 

Very  early  the  next  morning  the  Shekh  and  his  sons  and 
their  asses  were  in  readiness  to  accompany  me  to  Djebel  Berkel. 
We  walked  down  between  the  Shekh's  gardens  to  the  Nile, 
where  the  ferry-boat  was  waiting  to  convey  us  across.  I  was 
enchanted  with  the  picture  which  the  shores  presented.  The 
air  was  filled  with  a  light,  silvery  vapor  (a  characteristic  of 
sultry  weather  in  Africa),  softening  the  deep,  rich  color  of  the 
landscape.  The  eastern  bank  was  one  bower  of  palms,  stand- 
ing motionless,  in  perfect  groups,  above  the  long,  sloping  banks 


424  JOCRNKT  rc  CENTRAL 


D£  beans  in  blossom.  Such  grace  and  glory,  such  silence  and 
repose,  1  thought  I  had  never  before  seen  in  the  vegetabla 
world.  Opposite,  the  ruined  palaces  of  the  old  Shygheean 
Kings  and  the  mud  and  stone  hovels  of  modern  Meiawe  rose 
in  picturesque  piles  above  the  river  bank  and  below  the  red 
sandstone  bluffs  of  the  Nubian  Desert,  which  overhung  them 
and  poured  the  sand  through  deep  rents  and  fissures  upon  their 
very  roofs.  The  mosque,  with  a  tall,  circular  minaret,  stood 
embowered  in  a  garden  of  date-palms,  under  one  of  the  highest 
bluffs.  Up  the  river,  which  stretched  glittering  into  the  dis- 
tance, the  forest  of  trees  shut  out  the  view  of  the  Desert,  ex- 
cept Djebel  Berkel,  which  stood  high  and  grand  above  them, 
the  morning  painting  its  surface  with  red  lights  and  purple 
shadows.  Over  the  misty  horizon  of  the  river  rose  a  single 
conical  peak,  far  away.  The  sky  was  a  pale,  sleepy  blue,  and 
all  that  I  saw  seemed  beautiful  dream-pictures  —  every  where 
grace,  beauty,  splendor  of  coloring,  steeped  in  Elysiau  repose. 
It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  glory  of  that  passage  across  the 
river.  It  paid  me  for  all  the  hardships  of  the  Desert. 

When  we  touched  the  other  shore  and  mounted  the  little 
donkeys  we  had  taken  across  with  us,  the  ideal  character  of 
the  scene  disappeared,  but  left  a  reality  picturesque  and  poetic 
enough.  The  beasts  were  without  bridles,  and  were  only  fur- 
nished with  small  wooden  saddles,  without  girths  or  stirrups. 
One  was  obliged  to  keep  his  poise,  and  leave  the  rest  to  the 
donkey,  who,  however,  suffered  himself  to  be  guided  by  strik- 
ing the  side  of  his  neck.  We  rode  under  a  cluster  of  ruined 
stone  buildings,  one  of  which  occupied  considerable  space,  ris- 
ing pylon-like,  to  the  height  of  thirty  feet.  The  Shekh  in- 
formed me  that  it  had  been  the  palace  of  a  Shygheean  king,  be- 


THE    SCENERY    OF    MERxWK.  425 

Tore  the  Turks  got  possession  of  the  country.  It  was  wholly 
dilapidated,  but  a  few  Arab  families  were  living  in  the  stone 
dwellings  which  surround  it.  These  clusters  of  shattered 
buildings  extend  for  more  than  a  mile  along  the  river,  and  are 
all  now  known  as  Merawe,  Our  road  led  between  fields  of 
ripening  wheat,  rolling  in  green  billows  before  the  breeze,  on 
one  side,  and  on  the  other,  not  more  than  three  yards  distant, 
the  naked  sandstone  walls  of  the  Desert,  where  a  blade  of  grass 
never  grew.  Over  the  wheat,  along  the  bank  of  the  Nile,  rose 
a  long  forest  of  palms,  so  thickly  ranged  that  the  eye  could 
scarcely  penetrate  their  dense,  cool  shade ;  while  on  the  other 
hand  the  glaring  sand-hills  showed  their  burning  shoulders 
above  the  blufis.  It  was  a  most  violent  contrast,  and  yet, 
withal,  there  was  a  certain  harmony  in  these  opposite  features. 
A  remarkably  fat  man,  riding  on  a  donkey,  met  us.  The 
Shekh  compared  him  to  a  hippopotamus,  and  said  that  his  fat 
came  from  eating  mutton  and  drinking  om  bilbil  day  and  night 
At  the  end  of  the  town  we  came  to  a  sort  of  guard  house, 
shaded  by  two  sycamores.  A  single  soldier  was  in  attendance, 
and  apparently  tired  of  having  nothing  to  do,  as  he  immediate- 
ly caught  his  donkey  and  rode  with  us  to  Djebel  Berkel. 

We  now  approached  the  mountain,  which  is  between  three 
and  four  miles  from  the  town.  It  rises  from  out  the  sands  of 
the  Nubian  Desert,  to  the  height  of  five  hundred  feet,  present- 
ing a  front  completely  perpendicular  towards  the  river.  It  is 
inaccessible  on  all  sides  except  the  north,  which  in  one  place 
has  an  inclination  of  45°.  Its  scarred  and  shattered  walls  of 
naked  standstone  stand  up  stern  and  sublime  in  the  midst  of 
the  hot  and  languid  landscape.  As  we  approached,  a  group  of 
pyramids  appeared  on  the  brow  of  a  sand-hill  to  the  left,  and  1 


428  JOURNKT    TO    CENTRAI    AFRICA. 

discerned  at  the  base  of  the  mountain  aeveral  isolated  pillars, 
the  stone-piles  of  ruined  pylons,  and  other  remains  of  temples. 
The  first  we  reached  was  at  the  south-eastern  corner  of  tht 
mountain.  Amid  heaps  of  sandstone  blocks  and  disjointed 
segments  of  pillars,  five  columns  of  an  exceedingly  old  form 
still  point  out  the  court  of  a  temple,  whose  adyta  are  hewn 
within  in  the  mountain.  They  are  not  more  than  ten  feet 
high  and  three  in  diameter,  circular,  and  without  capital  or 
abacus,  unless  a  larger  block,  rudely  sculptured  with  the  out- 
lines of  a  Typhon-head,  may  be  considered  as  such.  The 
doorway  is  hurled  down  and  defaced,  but  the  cartouches  of 
kings  may  still  be  traced  on  the  fragments.  There  are  three 
chambers  in  the  rock,  the  walls  of  which  are  covered  with 
sculptures,  for  the  most  part  representing  the  Egyptian  divini 
ties.  The  temple  was  probably  dedicated  to  Typhon,  or  the 
Evil  Principle,  as  one  of  the  columns  is  still  faced  with  a 
caryatid  of  the  short,  plump,  big-mouthed  and  bat-eared  figure, 
which  elsewhere  represents  him.  Over  the  entrance  is  the 
sacred  winged  globe,  and  the  ceiling  shows  the  marks  of  bril- 
liant coloring.  The  temple  is  not  remarkable  for  its  architec- 
ture, and  can  only  be  interesting  in  an  antiquarian  point  of 
view.  It  bears  some  resemblance  in  its  general  style  to  the 
Temple-palace  of  Goorneh,  at  Thebes. 

The  eastern  base  of  the  mountain,  which  fronts  the  Nile, 
is  strewn  with  hewn  blocks,  fragments  of  capitals,  immense 
masses  of  dark  bluish-gray  granite,  and  other  remains,  which 
prove  that  a  large  and  magnificent  temple  once  stood  there, 
The  excavations  made  by  Lepsius  and  others  have  uncovered 
the  substructions  sufficiently  to  show  the  general  plan  of  twc 
buildings.  The  main  temple  was  at  the  north-eastern  cornel 


CLIMBING    DJEBEL    BERKEL.  421 

of  the  mountain,  under  the  highest  point  of  its  perpend iculai 
crags.  The  remains  of  its  small  propylons  stand  in  advance, 
about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  rock,  going  towards  which 
you  climb  the  mound  formed  by  the  ruins  of  a  large  pylon,  at 
the  foot  of  which  are  two  colossal  ram-headed  sphinxes  of  blue 
granite,  buried  to  their  necks  in  the  sand.  Beyond  this  is  a 
portico  and  pillared  court,  followed  by  other  courts  and  laby 
rinths  of  chambers.  Several  large  blocks  of  granite,  all  more 
or  less  broken  and  defaced,  lie  on  the  surface  or  half  quarried 
from  the  rubbish.  They  are  very  finely  polished  and  contain 
figures  of  kings,  evidently  arranged  in  genealogical  order,  each 
accompanied  with  his  name.  The  shekh  had  a  great  deal  to 
tell  me  of  the  Franks,  who  dug  up  all  the  place,  and  set  the 
people  to  work  at  hauling  away  the  lions  and  rams,  which  they 
carried  off  in  ships.  I  looked  in  vain  for  the  celebrated  pedes- 
tal ;  it  has  probably  become  the  spoil  of  Lepsius. 

While  taking  a  sketch  of  the  mountain  from  the  eastern 
side,  I  found  the  heat  almost  insupportable.  The  shekh  look- 
ed over  my  shoulder  all  the  time,  and  at  the  end  pronounced 
it  temam — "  perfect."  I  then  proposed  climbing  the  moun- 
ta'n,  as  he  had  said  one  could  see  the  whole  world  from  the 
top.  He  was  bound  to  go  with  me  wherever  I  went,  but  shrank 
from  climbing  El  Berkel.  It  would  require  two  hours,  he 
said,  to  go  up.  After  eating  a  slice  of  watermelon  in  the 
shade  of  one  of  the  pillars,  I  took  off  my  jacket  and  started 
alone,  and  very  soon  he  was  at  my  side,  panting  and  sweating 
with  the  exertion.  We  began  at  the  point  most  easy  of  ascent 
vet  found  it  toilsome  enough.  After  passing  the  loose  frag 
mcnts  which  lie  scattered  around  the  base,  we  came  upon  * 
eteep  slope  of  eliding  sand  and  stones,  blown  from  the  desert 


428  JOURNEY  TO  CENTRAL  AFRICA 

We  sank  in  this  nearly  to  the  knees,  and  slid  backward  at  each 
Btep  at  least  half  as  far  as  we  had  stepped  forward.  We  were 
obliged  to  rest  every  three  or  four  steps,  and  take  breath, 
moistening  the  sand  meanwhile  with  a  rain  of  sweat-drops, 
u  Surely  there  is  no  other  mountain  in  the  world  so  high  as 
this,"  said  the  shekh,  and  I  was  ready  to  agree  with  him.  At 
last  we  reached  the  top,  a  nearly  level  space  of  about  ten  acres. 
There  was  a  pleasant  breeze  here,  but  the  Ethiopian  world 
below  was  dozing  in  an  atmosphere  of  blue  heat.  There  was 
too  much  vapor  in  the  air  to  see  the  farthest  objects  distinctly, 
and  the  pyramids  of  Noori,  further  up  the  river,  on  its  eastern 
bank,  were  not  visible.  The  Nile  lay  curved  in  the  middle  of 
the  picture  like  a  flood  of  molten  glass,  on  either  side  its 
palmy  "  knots  of  paradise,"  then  the  wheat  fields,  lying  like 
slabs  of  emerald  against  the  tawny  sands,  that  rolled  in  hot 
drifts  and  waves  and  long  ridgy  swells  to  the  horizon  north  and 
south,  broken  tare  and  there  by  the  jagged  porphyry  peaks. 
Before  me,  to  the  south-east,  were  the  rugged  hills  of  the 
Beyooda ;  behind  me,  to  the  north  and  west,  the  burning  wil- 
derness of  the  Great  Nubian  Desert. 

As  I  sought  for  my  glass,  to  see  the  view  more  distinctly, 
[  became  aware  that  I  had  lost  my  pocket-book  on  the  way  up. 
A.S  it  contained  some  money  and  all  my  keys,  I  was  not  a 
little  troubled,  and  mentioned  my  loss  to  Shekh  Mohammed 
We  immediately  returned  in  search  of  it,  sliding  down  the 
sand  and  feeling  with  our  hands  and  feet  therein.  We  had 
made  more  than  half  the  descent,  and  I  began  to  consider  the 
search  hopeless,  when  the  shekh,  who  was  a  little  in  advance, 
oried  out :  "  0  Sidi !  God  be  praised !  God  be  praised  1 "  He 
saw  the  corner  sticking  out  of  the  sand,  took  it  up  kissed  it, 


THE    PYRAMIDS.  429 

and  laid  it  on  one  eye,  while  he  knelt  with  his  old  heaJ  turned 
up,  that  I  might  take  it  off.  I  tied  it  securely  in  a  corner  of  inj 
shawl  and  we  slid  to  the  bottom,  where  we  found  Achmet  and 
the  young  shekhs  in  the  shade  of  a  huge  projecting  cliff,  with 
breakfast  spread  out  on  the  sand. 

It  was  now  noon,  and  only  the  pyramids  remained  to  be 
seen  on  that  side  of  the  river.  The  main  group  is  about  a 
third  of  a  mile  from  the  mountain,  on  the  ridge  of  a  sand-hill. 
There  are  six  pyramids,  nearly  entire,  and  the  foundations  of 
others.  They  are  almost  precisely  similar  to  those  of  the  real 
Meroe,  each  having  a  small  exterior  chamber  on  the  eastern 
side.  Like  the  latter,  they  are  built  of  sandstone  blocks,  only 
filled  at  the  corners,  which  are  covered  with  a  hem  or  mould- 
ing ;  the  sides  of  two  of  them  are  convex.  On  all  of  them  the 
last  eight  or  ten  courses  next  the  top  have  been  smoothed  to 
follow  the  slope  of  the  side.  It  was  no  doubt  intended  to 
finish  them  all  in  this  manner.  One  of  them  has  also  the  cor- 
ner moulding  rounded,  so  as  to  form  a  scroll,  like  that  on  the 
cornice  of  many  of  the  Egyptian  temples.  They  are  n#t  more 
than  fifty  feet  in  height,  with  very  narrow  bases.  One  of 
them,  indeed,  seems  to  be  the  connecting  link  between  the 
pyramid  and  the  obelisk.  Nearer  the  river  is  an  older  pyra- 
mid, though  no  regular  courses  of  stone  are  to  be  seen  anj 
longer.  These  sepulchral  remains,  however,  are  much  inferior 
to  those  of  Meroe. 

The  oldest  names  found  at  Napata  are  those  of  Amenoph 
tn.  and  Remeses  II.  (1630  B.  C.  and  1400  B.  C.)  both  of 
whom  subjected  Nubia  to  their  rule.  The  remains  of  Ethi- 
opian art,  however,  go  no  further  than  King  Tirkaka,  730  B 
C. — the  Ethiopian  monarch,  who,  in  the  time  of  Hezekiah, 


430  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

marched  into  Palestine  to  meet  Sennacherib,  King  of  Assyria 
Napata,  therefore,  occupies  an  intermediate  place  in  history 
between  Thebes  and  Meroe,  showing  the  gradual  southward 
progress  of  Egyptian  art  and  civilization.     It  is  a  curious  fact 
that  the  old  religion  of  Egypt  should  have  been  here  met  face 
to  face,  and  overthrown,  by  Christianity,  which,  starting  in  the 
mountains  of  Abyssinia,  followed  the  course  of  the  Nile  north- 
ward.    In  the  sixth  century  of  our  era,  Ethiopia  and  Nubia 
were  converted  to  Christianity  and  remained  thus  until  the 
fourteenth  century,  when  they  fell  beneath  the  sword  of  Islam. 

We  rode  back  to  the  town  on  our  uneasy  donkey  saddles. 
As  I  wanted  small  money,  the  shekh  proposed  my  calling  on 
Achmedar  Kashif,  the  Governor  of  Merawe  and  Ambukol,  and 
asking  him  to  change  me  some  medjids.  We  accordingly  rode 
under  the  imposing  stone  piles  of  the  old  kings  to  the  residence 
of  the  Kashif,  a  two-story  mud  house  with  a  portico  in  front, 
covered  with  matting.  It  was  the  day  for  the  people  of  the 
neighborhood  to  pay  their  tulbeh,  or  tax,  and  some  of  his 
officers  were  seated  on  the  ground  hi  the  shade,  settling  this 
ousiness  with  a  crowd  of  Arabs.  I  went  up  stairs  to  the 
divan,  and  found  the  Kashif  rolling  himself  in  his  shawl  for 
dinner,  which  his  slaves  had  just  brought  up.  He  received 
me  cordially,  and  I  took  my  seat  beside  him  on  the  floor  and 
dipped  my  fingers  into  the  various  dishes.  There  was  a  jmu 
of  baked  fish,  which  was  excellent,  after  which  came  a  tray  of 
scarlet  watermelon  slices,  cofiee,  pipes,  and  lastly  a  cup  of  hot 
sugar  syrup.  He  readily  promised  to  change  me  the  money, 
and  afterwards  accepted  iny  invitation  to  dinner. 

I  stayed  an  hour  longer,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  witness- 
ing some  remarkable  scenes.  A  woman  came  in  to  Joruplain 


A    SCENE    IN    THE    DIVAN.  481 

of  her  husband,  who  had  married  another  woman,  leaving  hei 
with  one  child.  She  had  a  cow  of  her  own.  which  he  had 
forcibly  taken  and  given  to  his  new  wife.  The  Kashif  listen 
ed  to  her  story,  and  then  detaching  his  seal  from  his  button- 
hole, gave  it  to  an  attendant,  as  a  summons  which  the  delin- 
quent dare  not  disobey.  A  company  of  men  afterwards  came 
to  adjust  some  dispute  about  a  water-mill  They  spoke  so  fast 
and  in  such  a  violent  and  excited  manner,  that  I  could  not 
comprehend  the  nature  of  the  quarrel;  but  the  group  they 
made  was  most  remarkable.  They  leaned  forward  with  flash- 
ing teeth  and  eyes,  holding  the  folds  of  their  long  mantles  with 
one  hand,  while  they  dashed  and  hurled  the  other  in  the  air, 
in  the  violence  of  their  contention.  One  would  suppose  that 
they  must  all  perish  the  next  instant  by  spontaneous  combus- 
tion. The  Kashif  was  calmness  itself  all  the  while,  and  after 
getting  the  particulars — a  feat  which  I  considered  marvellous — 
quietly  gave  his  decision.  Some  of  the  party  protested  against 
it,  whereupon  he  listened  attentively,  but,  finding  no  reason  to 
change  his  judgment,  repeated  it.  Still  the  Arabs  screamed 
and  gesticulated.  He  ejaculated  imshee!  ("  get  away  !")  in  a 
thundering  tone,  dealt  the  nearest  ones  a  vigorous  blow  with 
his  fist,  and  speedily  cleared  the  divan.  The  Kashif  offered 
to  engage  camels  and  a  guide  for  New  Dougola,  in  case  I  chose 
to  go  by  the  Nubian  Desert — a  journey  of  three  or  four  days 
through  a  terrible  waste  of  sand  and  rocks,  without  grass  or 
water.  The  route  being  new,  had  some  attractions,  out  1 
afterwards  decided  to  adhere  to  my  original  plan  of  following 
the  course  of  the  river  to  Ambukol  and  Old  Dongola. 

I  made  preparations  for  giving  the   Kashif  a  handsome 
dinner.     I  had  mutton  and  fowls,  and  Achinet  procuiod  eggs 


132  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

milk  and  vegetables,  and  set  his  whole  available  force  to  work 
Meanwhile  the  shekh  and  I  sat  on  the  divan  outside  the  door 
and  exchanged  compliments.  He  sold  me  a  sword  from 
Bornou,  which  he  had  purchased  from  an  Arab  merchant  who 
had  worn  it  to  Mecca.  He  told  me  he  considered  me  as  hit 
two  eyes,  and  would  give  me  one  of  his  sons,  if  I  desired 
Then  he  rendered  me  an  account  of  his  family,  occasionally 
pointing  out  the  members  thereof,  as  they  passed  to  and  fro 
among  the  palms.  He  asked  me  how  many  children  I  had,  and 
I  was  obliged  to  confess  myself  wholly  his  inferior  in  this 
respect.  "  God  grant,"  said  he,  "  that  when  you  go  back  to 
your  own  country,  you  may  have  many  sons,  just  like  that 
one,"  pointing  to  a  naked  Cupidon  of  four  years  old,  of  a  rich 
chocolate-brown  color.  "  God  grant  it,"  I  was  obliged  to 
reply,  conformably  to  the  rules  of  Arab  politeness,  but  I  men 
tally  gave  the  words  the  significance  of  "  God  forbid  it ! " 
The  shekh,  who  was  actually  quite  familiar  with  the  ruins  in 
Ethiopia,  and  an  excellent  guide  to  them,  informed  me  that 
they  were  four  thousand  years  old ;  that  the  country  was  at 
that  time  in  possession  of  the  English,  but  afterwards  the 
Arabs  drove  them  out.  This  corresponds  with  an  idea  very 
prevalent  in  Egypt,  that  the  temples  were  built  by  the  fore- 
fathers of  the  Frank  travellers,  who  once  lived  there,  and  that 
is  the  reason  why  the  Franks  make  a  hadj,  or  pilgrimage  to 
see  them.  I  related  to  the  shekh  the  history  of  the  warlike 
Queen  Candace,  who  once  lived  there,  in  her  capital  of  Napata, 
and  he  was  so  much  interested  in  the  story  that  he  wrote  it 
down,  transforming  her  name  into  Kandasiyeh.  Some  later 
traveller  will  be  surprised  to  find  a  tradition  of  the  aforesaid 
^ueen,  no  doubt  with  many  grotesque  embellishmeLts,  told  him 
on  the  site  of  her  capital 


VISIT    FROM    THE    KASHIF.  43;i 

Dinner  was  ready  at  sunset,  the  appointed  time,  but  the 
Kashif  did  not  come.  I  waited  one  hour,  two  hours ;  still  he 
3anie  not.  Thereupon  I  invited  Achmet  and  the  shekh,  and 
we  made  an  excellent  dinner  in  Turkish  style.  It  was  just 
over,  arid  I  was  stretched  out  without  jacket  or  tarboosh,  en- 
joying my  pipe,  when  we  heard  the  ferrymen  singing  on  the 
river  below,  and  soon  afterwards  the  Kashif  appeared  at  the 
door.  He  apologized,  saying  he  had  been  occupied  in  hia 
divan.  I  had  dinner  served  again,  and  tasted  the  dishes  to 
encourage  him,  but  it  appeared  that  he  had  not  been  able  to 
keep  his  appetite  so  long,  and  had  dined  also.  Still,  he  ate 
enough  to  satisfy  me  that  he  relished  my  dishes,  and  after- 
wards drank  a  sherbet  of  sugar  and  vinegar  with  great  gusto. 
He  had  three  or  four  attendants,  and  with  him  came  a  Berber 
merchant,  who  had  lately  been  in  Khartoum.  I  produced  my 
sketch-book  and  maps,  and  astonished  the  company  for  three 
hours.  I  happened  to  have  a  book  of  Shaksperean  views, 
which  I  had  purchased  in  Stratford-on-Avon.  The  j  icture  of 
Shakspere  gave  the  Kashif  and  shekh  great  delight,  and  the 
former  considered  the  hovel  in  which  the  poet  was  born,  "very 
grand."  The  church  in  Stratford  they  thought  a  marvellous 
building,  and  the  merchant  confessed  that  it  was  greater  than 
Lattif  Pasha's  palace  in  Khartoum,  which  he  had  supposed  to 
be  the  finest  building  in  the  world. 

The  next  morning  the  shekh  \  roposed  going  with  me  to 
the  remains  of  a  temple,  half  an  hour  distant,  on  the  eastern 
bank  of  the  river  ;  the  place,  he  said,  where  the  people  found 
the  little  images,  agates  and  scarabei,  which  they  brought  to 
uie  in  great  quantities.  After  walking  a  mile  and  a  half  over 
the  sands,  which  have  here  crowded  the  vegetation  to  the  very 
19 


484  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

water's  edge,  we  came  to  a  broad  mound  of  stones,  broken 
bricks  and  pottery,  with  a  foundation  wall  of  heavy  limestone 
blocks,  along  the  western  side.  There  were  traces  of  doore 
and  niches,  and  on  the  summit  of  the  mound  the  pedestals  of 
columns  similar  to  those  of  El  Berkel.  From  this  place  com- 
menced a  waste  of  ruins,  extending  for  nearly  two  miles  to- 
wards the  north-west,  while  the  breadth,  from  east  to  west, 
was  about  equal.  For  the  most  part,  the  buildings  were  on- 
tirely  concealed  by  the  sand,  which  was  filled  with  fragments 
of  pottery  and  glass,  and  with  shining  pebbles  of  jasper,  agate 
and  chalcedony.  Half  a  mile  further,  we  struck  on  another 
mound,  of  greater  extent,  though  the  buildings  were  entirely 
level  with  the  earth.  The  foundations  of  pillars  were  abun- 
dant, and  fragments  of  circular  limestone  blocks  lay  crumbling 
to  pieces  in  the  rubbish.  The  most  interesting  object  was  a 
mutilated  figure  of  blue  granite,  of  which  only  a  huge  pair  of 
wings  could  be  recognized.  The  shekh  said  that  all  the  Frank 
travellers  who  came  there  broke  off  a  piece  and  carried  it  away 
with  them.  I  did  not  follow  their  example.  Towards  the 
river  were  many  remains  of  crude  brick  walls,  and  the  ground 
was  strewn  with  pieces  of  excellent  hard-burnt  bricks.  The 
sand  evidently  conceals  many  interesting  objects.  I  saw  in 
one  place,  where  it  had  fallen  in,  the  entrance  to  a  chamber, 
wholly  below  the  surface.  The  Arabs  were  at  work  in  various 
parts  of  the  plain,  digging  up  the  sand,  which  they  filled  in 
baskets  and  carried  away  on  donkeys.  The  shekh  said  it  con- 
tained salt,  and  was  very  good  to  make  wheat  grow,  whence  1 
inferred  that  the  earth  is  nitrous.  We  walked  for  an  hour  or 
two  over  the  ruins,  finding  everywhere  the  evidence  that  a 
large  capital  had  once  stood  on  the  spot.  The  bits  of  water 


Wit    COMPARE    KEUOIO.N8.  43fi 

jars  which  we  picked  up  were  frequently  painted  and  glazed 
with  much  skill.  The  soil  was  in  many  places  wholly  compos- 
ed of  the  debria  of  the  former  dwellings.  This  was,  without 
doubt,  the  ancient  Napata,  of  which  Djebel  Berkel  was  only 
the  necropolis.  Napata  must  have  been  one  of  the  greatest 
cities  of  Ancient  Africa,  after  Thebes,  Memphis  and  Carthage. 
I  felt  a  peculiar  interest  in  wandering  over  the  site  of  that 
half- forgotten  capital,  whereof  the  ancient  historians  knew  lit- 
tle more  than  we.  That  so  little  is  said  by  them  in  relation  to 
it  is  somewhat  surprising,  notwithstanding  its  distance  from 
the  Roman  frontier. 

In  the  afternoon,  Achmet,  with  great  exertion,  backed  by 
all  the  influence  of  the  Kashif,  succeeded  in  obtaining  ten  pias- 
tres worth  of  bread.  The  latter  sent  me  the  shekh  of  the 
camels,  who  furnished  me  with  three  animals  and  three  men, 
to  Wadi  Haifa,  at  ninety-five  piastres  apiece.  They  were  to 
nccompany  my  caravan  to  Ambukol,  on  the  Congolese  frontier 
where  the  camels  from  Khartoum  were  to  be  discharged.  1 
spent  tho  rest  of  the  day  talking  with  the  shekh  on  religious 
matters.  He  £ave  me  the  history  of  Christ,  in  return  for 
which  I  relatbi  to  him  that  of  the  Soul  of  Mahomet,  from  one 
hundred  and  ten  thousand  years  before  the  Creation  of  the 
World,  until  his  birth,  according  to  the  Arab  Chronicles 
This  quite  overcame  him.  He  seized  my  hand  and  kissed  it 
with  fervor,  acknowledging  me  as  the  more  holy  man  of  the 
two.  He  said  he  had  read  the  Books  of  Moses,  the  Psalms  of 
David  and  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  but  liked  David  best,  whose 
urords  flowed  like  the  sound  of  the  zumarra,  or  Arab  flute. 
To  illustrate  it,  he  chanted  one  of  the  Psalms  in  a  series  of  not 
onmusical  cadences.  He  then  undertook  to  repeat  the  ninety* 


486  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

attributes  of  God,  and  thought  he  succeeded,  but  I  noticed 
that  several  of  the  epithets  were  repeated  more  than  once. 

The  north  wind  increased  during  the  afternoon,  and  towards 
night  blew  a  very  gale.  The  sand  came  in  through  the  door 
in  such  quantities  that  I  was  obliged  to  move  my  bed  tc  a 
more  sheltered  part  of  my  house.  Numbers  of  huge  blact 
beetles,  as  hard  and  heavy  as  grape-shot,  were  dislodged  from 
their  holes  and  dropped  around  me  with  such  loud  raps  that  1 
was  scarcely  able  to  sleep.  The  sky  was  dull  and  dark,  hardly 
a  star  to  be  seen,  and  the  wind  roared  in  the  palms  like  a 
November  gale  let  loose  among  the  boughs  of  a  Northern 
forest.  It  was  a  grand  roar,  drowning  the  sharp  rustle  of  the 
leaves  when  lightly  stirred,  and  rocked  my  fancies  as  glorious- 
ly as  the  pine.  In  another  country  than  Africa,  I  should  have 
predicted  rain,  hail,  equinoctial  storms,  or  something  of  the 
kind,  but  there  I  went  to  sleep  with  a  positive  certainty  of 
punshine  on  the  morrow. 

I  was  up  at  dawn,  and  had  breakfast  by  sunrise ;  neverthe- 
less, we  were  obliged  to  wait  a  long  while  for  the  camels,  or 
rather  the  pestiferous  Kababish  who  went  after  them.  The 
new  men  and  camels  were  in  readiness,  as  the  camel-shekh 
camo  over  the  river  to  see  that  all  was  right.  The  Kashif  sent 
me  a  fine  black  ram,  as  provision  for  the  journey.  Finally, 
towards  eight  o'clock,  every  thing  was  in  order  and  my  cara- 
ran  began  to  move.  I  felt  real  regret  at  leaving  the  pleasant 
spot,  especially  the  beautiful  bower  of  palms  at  the  door  of  my 
house.  When  my  effects  had  been  taken  out,  the  shekh  called 
his  eldest  son  Saad,  his  wife  Fatima.  and  their  two  young  sons, 
5o  make  their  salaams.  They  all  kissed  my  hand,  and  I  then 
gave  thu  old  man  and  Saad  my  backsheesh  for  their  services 


THE    SHEKH'P    Bl  ES8TNO.  437 

The  shekh  took  the  two  gold  medjids  readily,  without  any 
hypocritical  show  of  reluctance,  and  lifted  my  hand  to  his  lips 
and  forehead.  When  all  was  ready,  he  repeated  the  Fatha, 
or  opening  paragraph  of  the  Koran,  as  each  camel  rose  from 
its  knees,  in  order  to  secure  the  blessing  of  Allah  upon  our 
journey.  He  then  took  me  in  his  arms,  kissed  both  my  cheeks, 
and  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  stood  showering  pious  phrases  after 
me,  till  I  was  out  of  hearing.  With  no  more  vanity  or  self- 
ishness than  is  natural  to  an  Arab,  Shekh  Mohammed  Abd 
e'-Djebal  had  many  excellent  qualities,  and  there  are  few  of 
my  Central  African  acquaintances  whom  I  would  rather  »e* 


.|38  JOURNKT   TO    OKNTRAL    AFRICA 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

OLD  DOXGOLA  AND  NEW  DONGOLA. 

A ppearanoa  or  Uie  Country— Korti — The  Town  of  Atnbukol — The  Caravan  reonran 
Ixed — A  Fiery  Ride — We  reach  Edabbe — An  Illuminated  Landscape — A  Toruica 
— Nubian  Agriculture — Old  Dongola — The  Palace-Mosque  of  the  Nubian  Kings — A 
Panorama  of  Desolation — The  Old  City — Nubian  Gratitude — Another  Sand-Storm 
— A  Dreary  Journey — The  Approach  to  Handak — A  House  of  Doubtful  Character— 
The  Inmates— Journey  to  El  Ordee  (New  Dongola) — Khoorshid  Bey — Appearance 
of  the  Town. 

I  LEFT  Abdom  on  the  morning  of  February  twentieth.  Our 
road  lay  southward,  along  the  edge  of  the  wheat-fields,  over 
whose  waves  we  saw  the  island-like  groups  of  palms  at  a  little 
distance.  For  several  miles  the  bank  of  the  river  was  covered 
with  a  continuous  string  of  villages.  After  skirting  this  glori 
ous  garden  land  for  two  hours,  we  crossed  a  sandy  tract,  over- 
grown with  the  poisonous  euphorbia,  to  avoid  a  curve  in  the 
river.  During  the  whole  of  the  afternoon,  we  travelled  along 
the  edge  of  the  cultivated  land,  and  sometimes  in  the  midst  of 
it,  obliging  my  camels  to  stumble  clumsily  over  the  raised 
trenches  which  carried  water  from  the  river  to  the  distant  parts 
of  the  fields.  Large,  ruined  forts  of  unburnt  brick,  exceeding- 
ly picturesque  at  a  distance,  stood  at  intervals  between  the 
iesert  and  the  harvest-land. 


KORTI    AND    AMIU  KOI,.  489 

The  next  morning  was  hot  and  sultry,  with  not  a  breath  of 
air  stirring.  I  rose  at  dawn  and  wulked  ahead  for  two  hours, 
through  thickets  of  euphorbia  higher  than  my  head,  and  over 
patches  of  strong,  dark-green  grass.  The  sakias  were  groan- 
.ng  all  along  the  shore,  and  the  people  every  where  at  work  in 
the  fields.  The  wheat  was  in  various  stages  of  growth,  from 
the  first  thick  green  of  the  young  blades  to  the  full  head. 
Barley  was  turning  a  pale  yellow,  and  the  dookhn,  the  heads 
of  which  had  already  been  gathered,  stood  brown  and  dry. 
Djcbel  Deeka,  on  my  right,  rose  bold  and  fair  above  the  lines 
of  palms,  and  showed  a  picturesque  glen  winding  in  between 
its  black-purple  peaks.  It  was  a  fine  feature  of  the  landscape, 
which  would  have  been  almost  too  soft  and  lovely  without  it. 

Before  nine  o'clock  we  passed  the  large  town  of  Korti, 
which,  however,  is  rather  a  cluster  of  small  towns,  scattered 
along  between  the  wheat-fields  and  the  river.  Some  of  the 
houses  were  large  and  massive,  and  with  their  blank  walls 
and  block-like  groups,  over  which  the  doum-tree  spread  its 
arch  and  the  date-palm  hung  its  feathery  crown,  made  fine 
African  pictures — admirable  types  of  the  scenery  along  the 
Nubian  Nile.  Beyond  the  town  we  came  upon  a  hot,  dusty 
plain,  sprinkled  with  stunted  euphorbia,  over  which  I  could  see 
the  point  where  the  Nile  turns  westward.  Towards  noon  we 
reached  the  town  of  Ambukol,  which  I  found  to  be  a  large 
agglomeration  of  mud  and  human  beings,  on  the  sand-hills, 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  river.  An  extensive  pile  of  mud  in 
the  centre  denoted  a  fortress  or  government  station  of  some 
sort  There  were  a  few  lazy  Arabs  sitting  on  the  ground,  on 
the  shady  side  of  the  walls,  and  some  women  going  back  and 
forth  with  water-jars,  but  otherwise,  for  all  the  life  it  present- 


440  JOCANET    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

ed,  tho  place  might  have  been  deserted.  The  people  we  met 
saluted  me  with  much  respect,  and  those  who  were  seated  rose 
and  remained  standing  until  I  had  passed.  I  did  not  enter 
the  town,  but  made  direct  for  a  great  acacia  tree  near  its  west- 
ern end.  The  nine  camels  and  nine  men  of  my  caravan  all 
rested  under  the  shade,  and  there  was  room  for  as  many  more. 
A  number  of  Arabs  looked  on  from  a  distance,  or  hailed  my 
camel  men,  to  satisfy  their  curiosity  regarding  me,  but  no  one 
came  near  or  annoyed  us  in  any  way.  I  took  breakfast  leisure- 
ly on  my  carpet,  drank  half  a  gourd  of  mareesa,  and  had  still 
an  hour  to  wait,  before  the  new  camels  were  laden.  The 
Kababish,  who  had  accompanied  me  from  Khartoum,  wanted  a 
certificate,  so  I  certified  that  Said  was  a  good  camel-man  and 
Mohammed  worthless  as  a  guide.  They  then  drank  a  parting 
jar  ot  mareesa,  and  we  went  from  under  the  cool  acacia  into 
the  glare  of  the  fierce  sun.  Our  road  all  the  afternoon  was 
in  the  Desert,  and  we  were  obliged  to  endure  a  most  intense 
and  sultry  heat. 

The  next  day  I  travelled  westward  over  long  akabas,  01 
reaches  of  the  Desert,  covered  with  clumps  of  thorns,  nebbuk 
and  the  jasmine  tree.  The  long  mountain  on  the  opposite 
bank  was  painted  in  rosy  light  against  the  sky,  as  if  touched 
with  the  beams  of  a  perpetual  sunrise.  My  eyes  always  turn- 
ed to  it  with  a  sense  of  refreshment,  after  the  weary  glare  of 
the  sand.  In  the  morning  there  was  a  brisk  wind  from  tho 
north-east,  but  towards  noon  it  veered  to  the  south-west,  and 
then  to  the  south,  continuing  to  blow  all  day  with  great 
force.  As  I  rode  westward  through  the  hot  hours  of  the 
ifternoon,  it  played  against  my  face  like  a  sheet  of  flame. 
The  sky  became  obscured  with  a  dull,  bluish  haze,  and 


A    FIEKY    RIDE.  441 

die  sands  of  the  Beyooda,  on  my  left,  glimmered  white  and 
dim,  as  if  swept  by  the  blast  of  a  furnace.  There  were  occa- 
sional gusts  that  made  the  flesh  shrink  as  if  touched  with  a  hot 
iron  and  I  found  it  impossible  to  bear  the  wind  full  on  my 
face.  One  who  has  never  felt  it,  cannot  conceive  the  withering 
effect  of  such  a  heat.  The  earth  seems  swept  with  the  first 
fires  of  that  conflagration  beneath  which  the  heavens  will 
shrivel  up  as  a  scroll,  and  you  instinctively  wonder  to  see  the 
palms  standing  green  and  unsinged.  My  camel-men  crept 
behind  the  camels  to  get  away  from  it,  and  Achmet  and  Ali 
muffled  up  their  faces  completely.  I  could  not  endure  the 
sultry  heat  occasioned  by  such  a  preparation,  and  so  rode  all 
day  with  my  head  in  the  fire. 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we  approached  the 
Nile  again.  There  was  a  grove  of  sont  and  doum-trees  on  the 
bank,  surrounding  a  large  quadrangular  structure  of  clay,  with 
square  towers  at  the  corners.  Grave-yards  stretched  for  nearly 
a  mile  along  the  edge  of  the  Desert,  and  six  large,  dome-like 
heaps  of  clay  denoted  the  tombs  of  as  many  holy  men.  We 
next  came  upon  the  ruins  of  a  large  village,  with  a  fort  and  a 
heavy  palace-like  building  of  mud.  Before  reaching  Edabbe, 
the  terminus  of  the  caravan  route  from  Kordofan,  the  same 
evening,  I  rode  completely  around  the  bend  of  the  Nile,  so 
that  my  dromedary's  head  was  at  last  turned  towards  Wadi 
Haifa.  I  was  hot,  tired,  and  out  of  temper,  but  a  gourd  of  cool 
water,  at  the  first  house  we  reached,  made  all  right  again, 
There  were  seven  vessels  in  the  river,  waiting  for  the  caravans. 
One  had  just  arrived  from  Kordofan,  and  the  packages  of  gum 
were  piled  up  along  the  shore.  We  were  immediately  followed 
by  the  sailors,  who  were  anxious  that  I  should  hire  their  vee 
19' 


142 


B6id  I  rode  past  the  town,  which  does  not  contain  more 
than  thirty  houses  in  all  and  had  my  tent  pitched  on  the  river 
bank. 

The  Nile  is  here  half  a  mile  broad,  and  a  long  reach  of  hia 
current  is  visible  to  the  north  and  south.  The  opposite  bank 
was  high  and  steep,  lined  at  the  water's  edge  with  a  belt  of 
beans  and  lupins,  behind  which  rose  a  line  of  palms,  and  still 
higher  the  hills  of  pale,  golden-hued  sand,  spotted  like  a  leop- 
ard's hide,  with  clumps  of  a  small  mimosa.  The  ground  was  a 
olear,  tawny  yellow,  but  the  spots  were  deep  emerald.  Below 
the  gorgeous  drapery  of  these  hills,  the  river  glittered  in  a 
dark,  purple-blue  sheet.  The  coloring  of  the  mid- African  land- 
scapes is  truly  unparalleled.  To  me,  it  became  more  than  a 
simple  sense  j  it  grew  to  be  an  appetite.  When,  after  a  jour- 
ney in  the  Desert,  I  again  beheld  the  dazzling  green  palms  and 
wheat-fields  of  the  Nile,  I  imagined  that  there  was  a  positive 
sensation  on  the  retina.  I  felt,  or  seemed  to  feel,  physically, 
the  colored  rays — beams  of  pure  emerald,  topaz  and  amethys- 
tine lustre — as  they  struck  the  eye. 

At  Edabbe  I  first  made  acquaintance  with  a  terrible  pest, 
which  for  many  days  afterwards  occasioned  me  much  torment— 
»  small  black  fly,  as  venomous  as  the  musquito,  and  much 
more  difficult  to  drive  away.  I  sat  during  the  evening  with 
my  head,  neck  and  ears  closely  bound  up,  notwithstanding  the 
heat.  After  the  flies  left,  a  multitude  of  beetles,  moths,  wing- 
ed ants  and  other  nameless  creatures  came  in  their  place.  J 
*at  and  sweltered,  murmuring  for  the  waters  of  Abaua  and 
Fharpar,  rivers  of  Damascus,  and  longing  for  a  glass  of  sherbet 
oooled  with  the  snows  of  Lebanon. 

We  were  up  with  the  first  glimmering  of  dawn.     The  skf 


THE  COt  NTKV  OF  DONOOLA.  448 

was  d  ill  and  hazy,  and  the  sun  came  up  like  a  shield  of  rust} 
copper,  as  we  started.  Our  path  lay  through  the  midst  of 
the  cultivated  land,  sometimes  skirting  the  banks  of  the 
Nile,  and  sometimes  swerving  off  to  the  belts  of  sont  and 
euphorbia  which  shut  out  the  sand.  The  sakias,  turned  by 
a  yoke  of  oxen  each,  were  in  motion  on  the  river,  and  the 
men  were  wading  through  the  squares  of  wheat,  cotton  and 
barley,  turning  the  water  into  them.  All  farming  processes 
from  sowing  to  reaping,  were  going  on  at  the  same  time.  The 
cultivated  land  was  frequently  more  than  a  mile  in  breadth, 
and  all  watered  from  the  river.  The  sakias  are  taxed  four 
hundred  and  seventy-five  piastres  each,  notwithstanding  the 
sum  fixed  by  Government  is  only  three  hundred.  The  remain 
der  goes  into  the  private  treasuries  of  the  Governors.  For  this 
reason,  many  persons,  unable  to  pay  the  tax,  emigrate  into 
Kordofan  and  elsewhere.  This  may  account  for  the  frequent 
tracts  of  the  finest  soil  which  are  abandoned.  I  passed  many 
fine  fields,  given  up  to  the  halfeh  grass,  which  grew  most  rank 
and  abundant.  My  dromedary  had  a  rare  time  of  it,  cropping 
the  juicy  bunches  as  he  went  along.  The  country  is  thickly 
settled,  and  our  road  was  animated  with  natives,  passing  back 
and  forth. 

About  noon,  we  saw  in  advance,  on  the  eastern  bank  of 
the  Nile,  a  bold,  bluff  ridge,  crowned  with  a  large  square 
building.  This  the  people  pointed  out  to  us  as  the  location 
of  Old  Dongola.  As  we  approached  nearer,  a  long  line  of 
mud  buildings  appeared  along  the  brow  of  the  hill,  whose 
northern  slope  was  cumbered  with  ruins.  We  left  the  cara- 
van track  and  rode  down  to  the  ferry  place  at  the  river,  over  a 
long  stretch  of  abandoned  fields,  where  the  cotton  was  almori 


444  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

choked  out  with  grass,  and  the  beans  and  lentils  were  growing 
wild  in  bunches.  After  my  tent  had  been  pitched  in  a  cotton- 
patch,  I  took  a  grateful  bath  in  the  river,  and  then  crossed  in 
the  ferry-boat  to  the  old  town.  The  hill  upon  which  it  is 
built  terminates  abruptly  in  a  precipice  of  red  sandstone  rock, 
about  a  hundred  feet  in  height.  Four  enormous  fragments 
have  been  broken  off,  and  lie  as  they  fell,  on  the  edge  of  the 
water.  A  steep  path  through  drifts  of  sliding  yellow  sand 
leads  around  the  cliffs,  up  to  the  dwellings.  I  found  the 
ascent  laborious,  as  the  wind,  which  had  veered  to  the  west, 
was  as  hot  as  on  the  previous  day ;  but  a  boatman  and  one  of 
my  camel-men  seized  a  hand  each  and  hauled  me  up  most  con- 
veniently. At  the  summit,  all  was  ruin;  interminable  Hues 
of  walls  broken  down,  and  streets  filled  up  with  sand.  I  went 
first  to  the  Kasr,  or  Palace,  which  stands  on  the  highest  part 
of  the  hill.  It  is  about  forty  feet  in  height,  having  two  stories 
and  a  broad  foundation  wall,  and  is  built  mostly  of  burnt 
brick  and  sandstone.  It  is  the  palace  of  the  former  Dongolese 
Kings,  and  a  more  imposing  building  than  one  would  expect 
to  find  in  such  a  place.  Near  the  entrance  is  an  arched  pas 
sage,  leading  down  to  some  subterranean  chambers,  which  1 
did  not  explore.  It  needed  something  more  than  the  assu- 
rance of  an  old  Nubian,  however,  to  convince  me  that  there  was 
an  underground  passage  from  this  place  to  Djebel  Berkel.  A 
broad  flight  of  stone  steps  ascended  to  the  second  story,  in 
which  are  many  chambers  and  passages.  The  walls  are  cover- 
ed with  Arabic  inscriptions,  written  in  the  plaster  while  it  was 
yet  moist.  The  hall  of  audience  had  once  a  pavement  of 
marble,  several  blocks  of  which  still  remain,  and  the  ceiling  it 
supported  in  the  centre  by  three  shafts  of  granite,  taken  f.roro 


THE    RUINS    OF    OLD    DONGOLA.  44J 

some  old  Egyptian  ruin.  The  floors  are  covered  with  tiles  of 
burnt  brick,  but  the  palm  -logs  which  support  them  have  given 
away  in  many  places,  rendering  one's  footing  insecure.  Be- 
hind the  hall  of  audience  is  a  passage,  with  a  niche,  in  each 
side  of  which  is  also  an  ancient  pillar  of  granite.  From  the 
tenor  of  one  of  the  Arabic  inscriptions,  it  appears  that  the 
building  was  originally  designed  for  a  mosque,  and  that  it  was 
erected  in  the  year  1317,  by  Saf-ed-deen  Abdallah,  after  a 
victory  over  the  infidels. 

I  ascended  to  the  roof  of  the  palace,  which  is  flat  and  paved 
with  stones.  The  view  was  most  remarkable.  The  height 
on  which  Old  Dongola  is  built,  falls  off  on  all  sides,  inland  as 
well  as  towards  the  river,  so  that  to  the  east  one  overlooks  a 
wide  extent  of  desert — low  hills  of  red  sand,  stretching  away 
to  a  dim,  hot  horizon.  To  the  north,  the  hill  slopes  gradually 
to  the  Nile,  covered  with  the  ruins  of  old  buildings.  North- 
east, hardly  visible  through  the  sandy  haze,  rose  a  high,  isolat- 
ed peak,  with  something  like  a  tower  on  its  summit.  To  the 
south  and  east  the  dilapidated  city  covered  the  top  of  the  hill 
— a  mass  of  ashy-gray  walls  of  mud  and  stone,  for  the  most 
part  roofless  and  broken  down,  while  the  doors,  courts  and 
alleys  between  them  were  half  choked  up  with  the  loose  sand 
blown  in  from  the  Desert.  The  graveyards  of  the  former  in- 
habitants extended  for  more  than  a  mile  through  the  sand, 
over  the  dreary  hills  behind  the  town.  Among  them  were  a 
great  number  of  conical,  pointed  structures  of  clay  and  stones, 
*-om  twenty  to  thirty  feet  in  height.  The  camel-men  said 
tney  were  the  tombs  of  rossool — prophets,  or  holy  men.  I 
eounted  twenty-five  in  that  portion  of  the  cemetery  which  was 
risible.  The  whole  view  was  one  of  entire  and  absolute  deso 


(46  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

lation,  heightened  the  more  by  the  clouds  of  sand  which  filled 
the  air,  and  which,  in  their  withering  heat,  seemed  to  be  rain, 
ing  ruin  upon  the  land. 

I  afterwards  walked  through  the  city,  and  was  surprised  to 
find  many  large,  strong  houses  of  stone  and  burnt  brick,  with 
spacious  rooms,  the  walls  of  which  were  plastered  and  white- 
washed. The  lintels  of  the  doors  and  windows  were  stone, 
the  roofs  in  many  places,  where  they  still  remained,  covered 
with  tiles,  and  every  thing  gave  evidence  of  a  rich  and  power- 
ful city.  Now,  probably  not  more  than  one-fifth  of  the  houses 
are  inhabited.  Here  and  there  the  people  have  spread  a  roof- 
ing of  mats  over  the  open  walls,  and  nestled  themselves  in  the 
sand.  I  saw  several  such  places,  the  doors,  or  rather  entrances 
to  which,  were  at  the  bottom  of  loose  sand-hills  that  constantly 
slid  down  and  filled  the  dingy  dwellings.  In  my  walk  I  met 
but  one  or  two  persons,  but  as  we  returned  again  to  the  river, 
I  saw  a  group  of  Congolese  women  on  the  highest  part  of  the 
cliff.  They  were  calling  in  shrill  tones  and  waving  their  hands 
to  some  persons  in  the  ferry-boat  on  the  river  below,  and  need- 
ed no  fancy  to  represent  the  daughters  of  Old  Dongola  la- 
menting over  its  fall. 

Some  Dongolese  djelldbidt,  or  merchants,  just  returned 
from  Kordofan,  were  in  the  ferry-boat.  One  of  them  showed 
me  a  snuff-box  which  he  had  bought  from  a  native  of  Fertit, 
beyond  Dar-Fur.  It  was  formed  of  the  shell  of  some  fruit, 
with  a  silver  neck  attached.  By  striking  the  head  of  the  box 
on  the  thumb-nail,  exactly  one  pinch  was  produced.  The  raia 
took  off  his  mantle,  tied  one  end  of  it  to  the  ring  in  the  bow 
and  stood  thereon,  holding  the  other  end  with  both  hands 
•tretched  above  his  head.  He  made  a  fine  bronzo  figure-head 


VUBIAB    ORATITCDK.  447 

for  the  boat,  and  it  was  easy  to  divine  her  name :  Hie  Nu- 
bian. We  had  on  board  a  number  of  copper-hued  women, 
whose  eyelids  were  stained  with  kohl,  which  gave  them  a 
ghastly  appearance. 

Soon  after  my  tent  had  been  pitched,  in  the  afternoon,  a 
man  came  riding  up  from  the  river  on  a  donkey,  leading  a 
borse  behind  him.  He  had  just  crossed  one  of  the  water- 
courses on  his  donkey,  and  was  riding  on,  holding  the  horse'" 
rope  in  his  hand,  when  the  animal  started  back  at  the  water- 
course, jerking  the  man  over  the  donkey's  tail  and  throwing 
him  violently  on  the  ground.  He  lay  as  if  dead  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  but  Achmet  finally  brought  him  to  consciousness 
by  pouring  the  contents  of  a  leathern  water-flask  over  his  head, 
and  raising  him  to  a  sitting  posture.  His  brother,  who  had 
charge  of  a  sakia  on  the  bank,  brought  me  an  angareb  in  the 
evening,  in  acknowledgment  of  this  good  office.  It  is  a  good 
trait  in  the  people,  that  they  are  always  grateful  for  kindness. 
The  angareb,  however,  did  not  prove  of  much  service,  for  I 
was  so  beset  by  the  black  gnats  that  it  was  impossible  to  sleep. 
They  assailed  my  nose,  mouth,  ears  and  eyes  in  such  numbers 
that  I  was  almost  driven  mad.  I  rubbed  my  face  with  strong 
yinegar,  but  it  only  seemed  to  attract  them  the  more.  I  un- 
wound my  turban,  and  rolled  it  around  my  ceck  and  ears,  but 
they  crept  under  the  folds  and  buzzed  and  bit  until  I  was 
forced  to  give  up  the  attempt. 

Our  road,  the  next  morning,  lay  near  the  river,  through 
tracks  of  thick  halfeh,  four  or  five  feet  high.  We  constantly 
passed  the  ruins  of  villages  and  the  naked  frames  of  abandon- 
ed sakias.  The  soil  was  exceedingly  rich,  as  the  exuberant 
growth  of  halfeh  proved,  but  for  miles  and  miles  there  was  no 


448  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AlTRICA. 

sign  of  life.  The  tyranny  of  the  Turks  has  depopulated  one 
of  the  fairest  districts  of  Nubia.  The  wind  blew  violently 
from  the  north,  and  the  sandy  haze  and  gray  vapor  in  the  aii 
became  so  dense  that  I  could  scarcely  distinguish  the  opposite 
bank  of  the  Nile.  The  river  was  covered  with  white  caps,  and 
broke  on  the  beach  below  with  a  wintry  roar.  As  we  journey- 
ed along  through  the  wild  green  grass  and  orchards  of  sont, 
passing  broken  walls  and  the  traces  of  old  water-courses,  I 
could  have  believed  myself  travelling  through  some  deserted 
landscape  of  the  North.  I  was  chilled  with  the  strong  wind, 
which  roared  in  the  sont  and  made  my  beard  whistle  under 
my  nose  like  a  wisp  of  dry  grass.  Several  ships  passed  us, 
scudding  up  stream  under  bare  poles,  and  one,  which  had  a 
single  reef  shaken  out  of  her  large  sail,  dashed  by  like  a  high- 
pressure  steamer. 

After  two  or  three  hours  we  passed  out  of  this  region. 
The  Desert  extended  almost  to  the  water's  edge,  and  we  had 
nothing  but  sand  and  thorns.  The  wind  by  this  time  waa 
more  furious  than  ever,  and  the  air  was  so  full  of  sand  that  we 
could  not  see  more  than  a  hundred  yards  on  either  hand.  The 
sun  gave  out  a  white,  ghastly  light,  which  increased  the  drear- 
iness of  the  day.  All  trace  of  the  road  was  obliterated,  and 
we  could  only  travel  at  random  among  the  thorns,  following 
the  course  of  the  Nile,  which  we  were  careful  to  keep  in  view. 
My  eyes,  ears,  and  nostrils  were  soon  filled  with  sand,  and  I 
was  obliged  to  bind  my  turban  so  as  nearly  to  cover  my  face, 
leaving  only  space  enough  to  take  a  blind  view  of  the  way  we 
were  going.  At  breakfast  time,  after  two  hours  of  this  mar- 
tyrdom, I  found  a  clump  of  thorns  so  thick  as  to  shut  off  the 
rind,  but  no  sooner  had  I  dismounted  and  crept  under  its 


ANOTHER   SAND-STORM.  440 

shelter  than  I  experienced  a  scorching  heat  from  the  BUD,  and 
was  attacked  by  myriads  of  the  black  gnats.  I  managed  to 
eat  something  in  a  mad  sort  of  way,  beating  my  face  and  ears 
continually,  and  was  glad  to  thrust  my  head  again  into  the 
sand  -storm,  which  drove  off  the  worse  pests.  So  for  hours  we 
pursued  our  journey.  I  could  not  look  in  the  face  of  the  wind, 
which  never  once  fell.  The  others  suffered  equally,  and  two 
of  the  camel-men  lagged  so,  that  we  lost  sight  of  them  entire- 
ly. It  was  truly  a  good  fortune  that  I  did  not  take  the  short 
road,  east  of  the  Nile,  from  Merawe  to  New  Dongola.  In  the 
terrible  wastes  of  the  Nubian  Desert,  we  could  scarcely  have 
survived  such  a  storm. 

Nearly  all  the  afternoon  we  passed  over  deserted  tracts, 
which  were  once  covered  with  flourishing  fields.  The  water- 
courses extend  for  nearly  two  miles  from  the  river,  and  cross 
the  road  at  intervals  of  fifty  yards.  But  now  th»  villages  are 
level  with  the  earth,  and  the  sand  whistles  over  the  traces  of 
fields  and  gardens,  which  it  has  not  yet  effaced.  T%o  hours 
before  sunset  the  sun  disappeared,  and  I  began  to  long  for  the 
town  of  Handak,  our  destination.  Achrnet  and  I  were  ahead, 
and  the  other  camels  were  not  to  be  seen  any  longer,  so  as  sun- 
set came  on  I  grew  restless  and  uneasy.  The  palms  by  this 
time  had  appeared  again  on  the  river's  brink,  and  there  was  a 
village  on  our  left,  in  the  sand.  We  asked  again  for  Handak. 
"  Just  at  the  corner  of  yon  palms,"  said  the  people.  They 
spoke  with  a  near  emphasis,  which  encouraged  me.  The  Ara- 
bie  dialect  of  Central  Africa  has  one  curious  characteristic, 
which  evidently  springs  from  the  want  of  a  copious  vocabulary. 
Degree,  or  intensity  of  meaning  is  usually  indicated  by  accent 
alone.  Thus,  when  they  point  to  an  object  near  at  hand  they 


450  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Bay:  Jienak,  "there;"  if  it  is  a  moderate  distance  off,  the} 
lengthen  the  sound  into  "  hen-a-a -ak  ;"  while,  if  it  is  so  far  aa 
to  be  barely  visible,  the  last  syllable  is  sustained  with  a  full 
breath — "  hen-a-a-a-a-a-ak  !  "  In  the  same  way,  sad  signifies 
"  an  hour  ;"  sa-a-a-a,  "  two  hours,"  &c.  This  habit  of  speech 
gives  the  laaguage  a  very  singular  and  eccentric  character. 

We  pushed  on  till  the  spot  was  reached,  but  as  far  ahead 
as  the  sand  would  permit  us  to  see,  could  discern  no  house 
We  asked  again  ;  the  town  commenced  at  the  next  corner  of 
the  palms  ahead  of  us.  I  think  this  thing  must  have  happen- 
ed to  us  five  or  six  times,  till  at  last  I  got  into  that  peculiarly 
amiable  mood  which  sees  nothing  good  in  Heaven  or  Earth. 
If  my  best  friend  had  come  to  meet  me,  I  should  have  given 
him  but  a  sour  greeting.  My  eyes  were  blinded,  my  head 
dull  and  stupid,  and  my  bones  sore  from  twelve  hours  in  the 
saddle.  As  it  grew  dark,  we  were  overtaken  by  four  riders 
mounted  on  fine  dromedaries.  They  were  going  at  a  sweeping 
trot,  and4fcur  beasts  were  ambitious  enough  to  keep  pace  with 
them  for  some  time.  One  of  them  was  a  stately  shekh,  with 
a  white  robe  and  broad  gold  border  and  fringe.  From  what 
the  people  said  of  him,  I  took  him  to  be  the  Melek,  or  King 
of  Dongola. 

Meanwhile,  it  was  growing  dark.  We  could  see  nothing 
of  the  town,  though  a  woman  who  had  been  walking  beside  us, 
gaid  we  were  there  already.  She  said  she  had  a  fine  house, 
which  we  could  have  for  the  night,  since  it  was  almost  impos- 
lible  for  a  tent  to  stand  in  such  a  wind.  As  I  had  already 
dipped  into  the  night,  I  determined  to  reach  Handak  at  all 
hazards,  and  after  yet  another  hour,  succeeded.  Achmet  and 
I  dismounted  in  a  ruined  court-yard,  and  while  I  sat  on  a 


MY    LODGING    IN    HAXDAK.  451 

broken  wall,  holding  the  camels,  he  went  to  look  for  our  men. 
It  was  a  dismal  place,  in  the  gathering  darkness,  with  the 
wind  howling  and  the  sand  drifting  on  all  sides,  and  I  wonder- 
ed what  fiend  had  ever  tempted  me  to  travel  in  Africa.  Be- 
fore long  the  woman  appeared  and  guided  us  to  a  collection  of 
miserable  huts  on  the  top  of  the  hill.  Her  fine  house  proved 
to  be  a  narrow,  mud-walled  room,  with  a  roof  of  smoked  dour- 
ra-stalks.  It  shut  off  the  wind,  however,  and  when  I  entered 
and  found  the  occupants  (two  other  women),  talking  to  each 
other  by  the  light  of  a  pile  of  blazing  corn-stalks,  it  looked  ab- 
solutely cheerful.  I  stretched  myself  out  on  one  of  the  anga- 
reba,  and  soon  relapsed  into  a  better  humor.  But  I  am  afraid 
we  were  not  lodged  in  the  most  respectable  house  of  Haiidak, 
for  the  women  showed  no  disposition  to  leave,  when  we  made 
preparations  for  sleeping.  They  paid  no  attention  to  my  re- 
quests, except  by  some  words  of  endearment,  which,  from  such 
creatures,  were  sufficiently  disgusting,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
threaten  them  with  forcible  ejection,  before  they  vacated  the 
house.  The  camel-men  informed  me  that  the  place  is  noto- 
rious for  its  harlotry. 

As  we  had  made  a  forced  march  of  forty  miles  in  one  day, 
I  gave  the  caravan  a  rest  until  noon,  and  treated  the  men  to 
mutton  and  mareesa.  Prices  had  already  increased,  since 
leaving  Soudan,  and  I  could  not  procure  a  sheep  for  less  than 
seventeen  piastres.  The  women,  who  had  returned  at  sunrise, 
begged  me  to  give  them  the  entrails,  which  they  cut  into  pieces 
»nd  ate  raw,  with  the  addition  of  some  onions  and  salt.  The 
tld  woman  told  me  a  piteous  tale  of  the  death  of  her  son,  and 
her  own  distress,  and  how  King  Dyaab  (who  had  passed 
through  Handak  the  day  previous,  on  his  way  to  Dar  El-Ma- 


</52  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

hass)  had  given  her  two  piastres,  and  she  hoped  I  would  also 
give  her  something,  that  she  might  buy  a  new  dress.  I  gave 
her  the  same  as  King  Dyaab,  which  she  at  once  asked  me  to 
take  back  again,  as  she  expected  at  least  nine  piastres.  See 
iug  I  was  about  to  take  her  at  her  word,  she  made  haste  to  se- 
sure  the  money.  Her  youngest  daughter,  a  bold,  masculine 
thing,  with  hair  cut  close  to  her  head,  now  came  to  me  for 
backsheesh.  "  Oh  ! "  said  I,  "  you  are  going  to  do  as  the  old 
woman  did,  are  you?"  "No,"  she  exclaimed;  "if  you  will 
give  me  two  piastres,  I  will  ask  for  no  more.  The  old  woman 
is  a  miserable  wretch  ! "  and  she  spat  upon  the  ground  to  show 
her  disgust.  "  Go  ! "  I  said ;  "  I  shall  give  nothing  to  a  girl 
who  insults  her  mother." 

From  Handak  to  El  Ordee  is  two  days'  journey.  The 
country  presents  the  same  aspect  of  desertion  and  ruin  as  that 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Old  Dongola.  Untenanted  villages 
line  the  road  during  nearly  the  whole  distance.  The  face  of 
the  country  is  level,  and  there  is  no  mountiin  to  be  seeu  on 
either  bank  of  the  Nile.  It  is  a  melancholy,  deserted  re- 
gion, showing  only  palms  growing  wildly  and  raukly  along  the 
river,  fields  covered  with  halfeh,  water-courses  broken  down, 
eakias  dismantled,  and  everywhere  dwellings  in  ruin.  Here 
and  there  a  few  inhabitants  still  lingered,  tending  their  fields 
of  stunted  cotton,  or  watering  some  patches  of  green  wheat. 
The  general  aspect  of  desolation  was  heightened  by  the  strong 
north-wind,  which  filled  the  air  with  clouds  of  sand,  making 
the  sunshine  so  cold  and  white,  that  all  the  color  faded  out  of 
the  landscape.  The  palms  were  dull  and  dark,  and  the  sand- 
hills beyond  the  Nile  a  dead,  lifeless  yellow.  All  this  district 
9warm3  witli  black  gnats,  which  seemed  to  have  been  sent  as  a 


APPROACH    TO    EL    ORDER.  453 

curse  upon  its  desertion,  for  they  never  appeared  where  the 
country  was  thickly  inhabited  and  all  the  soil  cultivated. 

On  the  first  day  after  leaving  Handak,  we  passed  the  vil 
lages  of  Kiar,  Sori  and  Urub,  and  stopped  at  a  place  called 
Tetti.  The  wind  blew  so  violently  during  the  night  that  every 
thing  in  my  tent,  my  head  included,  was  thickly  covered  with 
dust.  The  next  day  we  passed  a  large  town  called  Hanuak. 
The  greater  part  of  it  was  levelled  to  the  earth,  and  evidently 
by  violence,  for  the  walls  were  of  stone.  It  stood  on  a  rocky 
rise,  near  the  river,  and  had  on  its  highest  part  the  remains  of 
some  defences,  and  a  small  palace,  in  tolerable  preservation. 
The  hills  behind  were  covered  for  half  a  mile  with  the  graves 
of  the  former  inhabitants,  among  which  I  noticed  the  cones 
and  pyramids  of  several  holy  men.  As  we  approached  El  Or- 
dee  (by  which  name  New  Dongola  is  usually  called),  the  ap 
pearance  of  the  country  improved,  although  there  was  still  as 
much  deserted  as  cultivated  land.  The  people  we  met  were 
partly  Congolese  and  partly  Arabs  from  the  Desert,  the  latter 
with  bushy  hair,  shining  with  grease,  and  spears  in  their 
hands.  They  cheered  us  with  the  news  that  El  Ordee  was  not 
distant,  and  we  would  arrive  there  at  asser — the  time  of  after- 
noon prayer,  two  hours  before  sunset.  My  camel-men  rejoiced 
at  the  prospect  of  again  having  mareesa  to  drink,  and  I  asked 
old  Mohammed  if  he  supposed  the  saints  drank  mareesa  in 
Paradise.  "  Why  ! "  he  joyfully  exclaimed  ;  "  do  you  know 
about  Paradise  ?"  "  Certainly  ;"  said  I,  "  if  you  lead  a  good 
life,  you  will  go  straight  there,  but  if  you  are  wicked,  Eblis 
will  carry  you  down  into  the  flames."  "  Wallah  ! "  said  the 
old  fellow,  aside  to  Achmet ;  "  but  this  is  a  good  Frank  He 
3tirtaiiily  has  Islam  in  his  heart" 


454  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

About  two  o'clock,  we  descried  the  minaret  of  El  Ordee 
its  sugar-loaf  top  glittering  white  in  the  sun.  The  place  wai 
three  or  four  miles  distant,  and  we  did  not  reach  it  until  after 
more  than  an  hour's  travel.  As  we  approached,  it  presented 
the  usual  appearance  of  the  Nubian  towns — a  long  line  of 
blank  mud  walls,  above  which  rise,  perhaps,  the  second  stories 
of  a  few  more  ambitious  mud  houses ;  here  a  sycamore,  there 
a  palm  or  two,  denoting  a  garden  within ;  a  wide  waste  of  sand 
round  about,  some  filthy  people  basking  in  the  sun,  and  a  mul- 
titude of  the  vilest  kind  of  dogs.  Near  the  river  there  are 
some  fine  large  gardens,  as  in  Khartoum.  I  had  already  de- 
cided to  stop  two  days,  to  rest  my  caravan,  before  commenc- 
ing the  long  and  toilsome  march  to  Wadi-Halfa,  but  instead 
of  hiring  a  house  I  went  around  the  town  and  pitched  my  tent 
on  the  northern  side,  on  a  sandy  plain,  where  I  secured  pure 
air  and  freedom  from  molestation  by  the  inhabitants. 

The  morning  after  my  arrival,  the  Governor,  Khoorshid 
Bey,  called  at  my  tent,  and  I  returned  the  visit  in  the  after- 
noon. He  was  a  stout,  fair-skinned  and  brown-bearded  man 
of  thirty-eight,  and  looked  more  like  an  American  than  a  Turk. 
I  found  him  in  the  shop  of  a  Turkish  merchant,  opposite  the 
door  of  the  mosque,  which  is  built  in  the  centre  of  the  bazaar. 
Two  soldiers  were  in  attendance,  and  brought  me  coffee  and 
sherbet.  The  Bey  was  particularly  anxious  to  know  whether 
the  railroad  from  Alexandria  to  Cairo  would  be  built,  and 
how  much  it  would  cost.  While  I  was  sitting  with  him,  the 
mollahs  were  chanting  in  the  mosque  opposite,  as  it  was  the 
Moslem  Sunday,  and  groups  of  natives  were  flocking  thither 
to  say  their  prayers.  Presently  the  voice  of  the  muezzin  was 
Heard  from  the  top  of  the  minaret,  chanting  in  a  loud,  mel> 


KL  ORDEE  (NEW  DONnoLi).  455 

dious,  melancholy  cadence  the  call  to  prayer  —a  singular  cry, 
the  effect  of  which,  especially  at  sunset,  is  really  poetic  and 
suggestive.  I  took  my  leave,  as  the  Bey  was  expected  to  per- 
form his  devotions  with  the  other  worshippers. 

The  town  may  be  seen  in  an  hour.  It  contains  no  sights, 
except  the  bazaar,  which  has  about  twenty  tolerable  shops 
principally  stocked  with  cottons  and  calicoes,  and  a  great  quan- 
tity of  white  shawls  with  crimson  borders,  which  the  people 
here  are  fond  of  wearing  over  their  shoulders.  Outside  the 
bazaar,  which  has  a  roof  of  palm-logs  covered  with  matting, 
are  a  few  shops,  containing  spices,  tobacco,  beads,  trinkets  and 
the  like  small  articles.  Beyond  this  was  the  soog,  where  the 
people  came  with  their  coarse  tobacco,  baskets  of  raw  cotton, 
onions,  palm-mats,  gourds,  dates,  faggots  of  fire-wood,  sheep 
and  fowls.  In  this  market-place,  which  ascended  and  descend- 
ed with  the  dirt-heaps  left  from  ruined  houses,  there  were  four 
ostriches,  which  walked  about,  completely  naturalized  to  the 
place.  One  of  them  was  jaore  chan  eight  feet  high — a  most 
powerful  a,nd  graceful  creature.  They  were  not  out  of  place, 
among  the  groups  of  wild-haired  Kababish  and  Bisharee,  who 
frequented  the  market. 

Below  the  river-bank,  which  is  high,  upwards  of  twenty 
small  trading  craft  were  lying.  One  had  just  arrived  with  a 
load  of  lime,  which  the  naked  sailors  were  carrying  up  the 
bank  in  baskets,  on  their  heads.  The  channel  of  the  Nile  here 
is  mainly  taken  up  with  the  large,  sandy  island  of  Tor,  and  kht> 
stream  is  very  narrow.  The  shore  was  crowded  with  women, 
washing  clrthes  or  filling  their  water-jars,  men  hoisting  full 
water-skins  on  the  backs  of  donkeys,  and  boys  of  all  shades, 
from  whity-yellow  to  perfect  black,  bathing  and  playing  on  th« 


456  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

brink.  The  northern  part  of  the  town  appeared  to  be  desert 
ed,  and  several  spacious  two-story  buildings  were  falling  into 
ruins.  I  noticed  not  more  than  half  a  dozen  houses  which 
would  be  considered  handsome  in  Berber  or  Khartoum.  El 
Ordee  ranks  next  after  those  places,  in  all  the  Egyptian  terri- 
tory beyond  Assouan,  but  has  the  disadvantage  of  being  more 
filthy  than  they. 


WF.    STAUT    KOI!    WAM-IIAI.FA.  457 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

JOURNEY    THROUGH    DAR    EL-MAHAS8    AND    8UKKOT. 

W«  start  for  Wadi- Haifa— The  Plague  of  Black  Gnats— Mohammed's  Coffin— Tb« 
Island  of  Argo — Market-Day—Scenery  of  the  Nile — Entering  Dar  El-Mahasg — 
Ruined  Fortresses — The  Camel-Men— A  Rocky  Chaos— Fakir  Bender— The  Aksbo 
of  Mahass — Camp  in  the  Wilderness — The  Charm  of  Desolation — The  Nile  again — 
Pilgrims  from  Dnr-Fur — The  Struggle  of  the  Nile — An  Arcadian  Landscape— The 
Temple  of  Soleb— Dar  Sukkot— The  Land  of  Dates— The  Island  of  8ai— A  Sea  ol 
Sand— Cainp  by  the  River — A  Hyena  Barbecue. 

WE  left  El  Ordee  or  New  Dongola,  before  sunrise  on  the 
twenty-ninth  of  February.  A  boy  of  about  fourteen  years  old 
came  out  from  the  town,  helped  load  the  camels,  and  insisted 
on  accompanying  me  to  Cairo.  As  my  funds  were  diminish- 
ing, and  I  had  no  need  of  additional  service,  I  refused  to  take 
him,  and  he  went  home  greatly  disappointed.  We  were  all  iu 
fine  health  and  spirits,  from  the  two  days'  rest,  and  our  ships 
of  the  Desert  sailed  briskly  along  the  sands,  with  the  palmy 
coasts  green  and  fair  on  our  right.  For  some  miles  from  the 
town  the  land  is  tolerably  well  cultivated,  but  the  grain  was 
all  much  younger  than  in  the  neighborhood  of  Old  Dongola. 
Beyond  this,  the  country  was  again  deserted  and  melancholy  ; 
everywhere  villages  in  ruin,  fields  given  up  to  sand  and  thorns, 
20 


458  JOITRNRT    TO    CENTRAL    AKRM!A. 

and  groves  of  date  trees  wasting  their  vigor  in  rank,  unpruned 
shoots.  The  edge  of  the  Desert  was  covered  with  grave-yards 
to  a  considerable  extent,  each  one  boasting  its  cluster  of  pyra- 
mids and  cones,  raised  over  the  remains  of  holy  shekhs.  To- 
wards noon  I  dismounted  for  breakfast  in  a  grove  of  sont 
trees,  but  had  no  sooner  seated  myself  on  my  carpet,  than  the 
small  black  flies  came  in  such  crowds  that  I  was  scarcely  able 
to  eat.  They  assailed  my  temples,  ears,  eyes  and  nostrils, 
and  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  drive  them  away.  I  was  half 
crazy  with  the  infliction,  and  at  night  my  neck  and  temples 
were  swollen  and  covered  with  blotches  worse  than  those  made 
by  mosquito  stings  In  fact,  mosquitoes  are  mild  and  merci- 
ful in  comparison.  Had  not  my  road  been  mostly  in  the 
Desert,  away  from  the  trees,  I  could  scarcely  have  endured  the 
journey.  The  few  inhabitants  along  the  river  kindled  fires  of 
green  wood  and  sat  in  the  smoke. 

In  the  afternoon  the  monotony  of  the  Desert  on  the  western 
bank  was  broken  by  a  solitary  mountain  of  a  remarkable  form. 
Et  precisely  resembled  an  immense  coffin,  the  ends  being  appa- 
rently cut  square  off,  and  as  the  effect  of  a  powerful  mirag« 
lifted  it  above  the  horizon,  it  seemed  like  the  sarcophagus  of 
the  Prophet,  in  the  Kaaba,  to  be  suspended  between  heaven 
and  earth.  The  long  island  of  Argo,  which  I  saw  occasionally 
across  an  arm  of  the  Nile,  appeared  rich  and  well  cultivated. 
It  belongs  mostly  to  Melek  Hammed,  King  of  Dongola,  whc 
tfas  expected  at  home  the  day  I  passed,  on  his  return  from 
Cairo,  where  he  had  been  three  mouths  or  more,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  representing  to  Abbas  Fasha  the  distressed  condition 
of  the  country,  and  obtaining  some  melioration  of  the  system 
of  misrule  inflicted  upon  it.  Near  the  town  of  Argo,  on  the 


THE  PLAGFR  OF  BLACK  ON  ATS.  459 

opposite  side  of  the  island  my  map  iiidicated  a  ruined  ./emple, 
and  I  made  a  strong  effort  to  see  it ;  but  at  Binni,  which  was 
the  nearest  point,  there  was  no  ferry,  and  the  people  knew 
nothing  of  the  temple  nor  of  any  thing  else.  I  left  the  main 
road  and  followed  the  bank,  but  the  terrible  flies  drove  me 
tway,  and  so,  maddened  and  disgusted,  I  came  at  last  to  a 
sa/rza,  where  the  people  informed  me  that  the  ferry  was  still 
ahead  and  the  ruins  already  some  distance  behind  me.  They 
said  this  deliberately  and  carelessly,  sitting  like  black  spectres 
in  the  midst  of  thick  smoke,  while  I  was  crazily  beating  my 
ears.  "  Tell  the  caravan  to  go  ahead,"  I  said  to  Achmet,  at 
length,  "  and  don't  talk  to  me  of  temples  until  we  have  got 
away  from  these  flies." 

The  next  morning  Achmet  had  some  difficulty  in  awaking 
me,  so  wrapt  was  I  in  dreams  of  home.  I  sat  shivering  in  the 
cool  air,  trying  to  discover  who  and  where  I  was,  but  the  yel- 
low glimmer  of  my  tent-lining  in  the  dim  light  of  dawn  soon 
informed  me.  During  the  day  we  passed  through  a  more 
thickly  settled  country,  and  owing  to  the  partial  cultivation  of 
the  soil,  were  less  troubled  by  that  Nubian  plague,  which  ia 
always  worse  about  the  ruined  villages  and  the  fields  given  up 
to  halfeh  grass.  It  was  market-day  at  the  village  of  Hafier, 
and  we  met  and  passed  many  natives,  some  with  baskets  oi 
raw  cotton  and  some  with  grain.  I  noticed  one  man  riding  a 
donkey  and  carrying  before  him  a  large  squash,  for  which  he 
would  possibly  get  twenty  paras  (2£  cents).  My  camel-men, 
*ho  had  neglected  to  buy  dourra  in  El  Ordee,  wanted  to  stop 
until  noon  in  order  to  get  it,  and  as  I  would  not  wait,  remained 
behind. 

The  scenery  had  a  wild  and  picturesque  air,  from  the  w» 


460  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

lated  mountain  peaks,  which  now  appeared  on  botl  sides  OT 
the  river  Djebel  Arambo,  with  its  high,  precipitous  side! 
and  notched  summit,  stood  steeped  in  soft  purple  vapor — a 
beautiful  object  above  the  long  Hues  of  palms  and  the  green 
level  of  the  islands  in  the  river.  The  fields  on  the  western 
bank  were  mostly  taken  up  with  young  wheat,  though  I  saw  a 
single  one  of  ripe  barley,  which  a  black  Barabra  was  reaping, 
cutting  off  the  stalks  about  one-third  of  the  way  below  the 
heads,  and  depositing  them  in  heaps.  By  noon,  I  knew  from 
the  land-marks  that  we  must  be  opposite  the  island  of  Tombos, 
where  there  are  some  ruins.  I  made  inquiries  for  it,  but  the 
bank  was  almost  deserted,  and  the  few  inhabitants  I  found 
gathered  in  straw  huts  here  and  there  among  the  rank  palm- 
groves,  could  tell  me  nothing  about  it.  All  agreed,  however, 
that  there  was  no  ferry  at  this  part  of  the  Nile,  and  to  swim 
across  was  out  of  the  question.  The  crocodiles  swarm  here,  and 
are  quite  delicate  in  their  tastes,  much  preferring  white  flesh 
to  black.  So  my  hope  of  Tombos  vanished  like  that  of  Argo. 
Beyond  the  island  is  a  little  ruined  village,  called  Hannek, 
and  here  I  took  leave  of  Dar  Dongola,  in  which  I  had  been 
travelling  ten  days,  and  entered  Dar  El-Mahass,  the  kingdom 
of  my  friend  Melek  Dyaab.  The  character  of  the  country 
changed  on  the  very  border.  Long  ridges  of  loose  blocks  of 
sandstone  and  granite,  as  at  Assouan  and  Akaba  Gerri,  in 
Soudan,  appeared  in  front,  at  first  on  the  western  bank,  but 
soon  throwing  their  lines  across  the  stream  and  forming  weirs 
and  rapids  in  its  current.  The  river  is  quite  narrow,  in  soma 
places  not  a  hundred  yards  broad,  and  leads  a  very  tortuou* 
course,  bearing  away  towards  the  north-west,  until  it  meets 
the  majestic  barrier  rf  Djebel  Foga,  when  it  turns  to  the  north 


KUINKI)     KOIiTKKSSKS.  461 

east.  About  two  hours  after  passing  Djcbel  Arambo,  whicfc 
stands  opposite  the  northern  extremity  of  Tombos,  we  reached 
the  hiFge  and  hilly  island  of  Mosul,  where  the  river  divides  its 
\v -it ITS  and  flows  for  several  miles  through  deep,  crooked,  rocky 
cli-umels,  before  they  meet  again.  Here  there  is  no  cultiva- 
tion, the  stony  ridges  running  to  the  water's  edge.  The  river- 
bed is  so  crowded  and  jammed  with  granite  rocks,  that  from 
the  shore  it  appears  in  some  places  to  be  entirely  cut  off.  At 
this  point  there  are  three  castellated  mud  ruins  in  sight,  which 
at  a  distance  resemble  the  old  feudal  fortresses  of  Europe. 
The  one  nearest  which  we  passed  was  quadrangular,  with  cor- 
ner bastions,  three  round  and  one  square,  all  tapering  inward 
towards  the  top.  The  lower  part  of  the  wall  was  stone  and 
the  upper  part  mud,  while  the  towers  were  nearly  fifty  feet 
high.  That  on  an  island  in  the  river,  strongly  resembled  an 
Egyptian  temple,  with  its  pylons,  porticoes,  and  walls  of  cir- 
cuit. They  were  evidently  built  before  the  Turkish  invasion 
and  were  probably  frontier  forts  of  the  Kings  of  El-Mahass, 
to  prevent  incursions  from  the  side  of  Dongola. 

We  reached  the  eastern  base  of  Djebel  Foga  about  four 
o'clock,  and  I  thought  it  best  to  encamp,  on  account  of  the 
camel-men,  who  had  a  walk  of  twenty-three  miles  with  bags  of 
dourra  on  their  shoulders,  before  they  could  reach  us.  I  had 
no  sooner  selected  a  place  for  my  tent,  on  the  top  of  a  higb 
bank  overlooking  the  river,  than  they  appeared,  much  fatigued 
and  greatly  vexed  at  me  for  leaving  them  in  the  lurch,  I 
ordered  my  pipe  to  be  filled,  and  smoked  quietly,  making  no 
reply  to  their  loud  complaints,  and  in  a  short  time  the  most 
complete  harmony  prevailed  in  our  camp.  The  Nile  at  this 
place  flowed  in  the  bottom  of  a  deep  gorge,  filled  with  rocks 


462  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

The  banks  were  almost  perpendicular,  but  covered  with  a  rich 
growth  of  halfeh,  which  our  camels  greedily  cropped,  at  the 
hazard  of  losing  their  balance  and  tumbling  down  into  the 
river.  I  fancied  there  was  already  a  taste  of  Egypt  in  the 
mountain  air,  and  flattered  myself  that  I  had  breathed  the  last 
of  the  languid  atmosphere  of  Soudan. 

The  next  morning  led  us  deeper  into  the  rocky  chaos.  The 
bed  of  the  Nile  was  properly  a  gorge,  so  deep  was  it  sunk 
among  the  stony  hills,  and  confined  within  such  narrow  limits. 
The  ridges  of  loose  blocks  of  granite  and  porphyry  roll  after 
each  other  like  waves,  and  their  crests  assume  the  most  fantas- 
tic variety  of  forms.  They  are  piled  in  heaps  and  balanced  on 
each  other,  topped  with  round  boulders  or  thrown  together  in 
twos  and  threes,  as  if  some  brood  of  Titan  children  had  been 
at  play  in  those  regions  and  were  frightened  away  in  the 
midst  of  their  employment.  It  is  impossible  to  lose  the  im- 
pression that  some  freak  of  human  or  superhuman  fancy  gave 
the  stones  their  quaint  grouping.  Between  the  ridges  are 
shallow  hollows,  terminating  towards  the  west  in  deep,  rocky 
clefts,  and  opening  on  the  river  in  crescent-like  coves,  between 
fche  jaggy  headlands  which  tumble  their  boulders  into  its  bed 
High  peaks,  or  rather  conical  piles  of  porphyry  rock,  rise  here 
and  there  out  of  this  sterile  chaos.  Toward  the  east,  where 
the  Nile  winds  away  in  a  long  chain  of  mazy  curves,  they  form 
ranges  and  show  compact  walls  and  pinnacles.  The  few  palms 
and  the  little  eddies  of  wheat  sprinkled  along  both  banks  of 
the  river,  are  of  a  glorious  depth  and  richness  of  hue,  by  con- 
trast with  the  gray  and  purple  wastes  of  the  hills.  In  the 
sweet,  clear  air  of  the  morning,  the  scenery  was  truly  inspir- 
ing, and  I  rode  over  the  high  ridges  in  a  mood  the  very  oppo- 
site of  that  I  had  felt  the  day  previous. 


THE    AKABA    OF    MAHASS.  463 

The  Nile  makes  a  great  curve  through  the  la^d  of  MAhatw, 
to  avoid  which  the  road  passes  through  an  akaba,  about  fortj 
miles  in  length.  At  the  corner,  where  the  river  curves  at  a 
right  angle  from  west  to  south,  is  a  small  ruined  place  called 
Faku  Bender.  The  high  bank  is  a  little  less  steep  here  than 
at  other  places,  and  its  sides  are  planted  with  lupins.  At  the 
end  of  the  village  is  an  immense  sont  tree,  apparently  very 
old.  A  large  earthen  water-jar,  with  a  gourd  beside  it,  stood 
in  the  shade.  Thefakeer,  or  holy  man,  from  whom  the  place 
is  named,  was  soon  in  attendance,  and  as  our  camels  knelt 
under  the  tree,  presented  me  with  a  gourd  of  cool  water,  "  in 
the  name  of  God."  I  gave  him  ten  paras  before  we  left,  but  he 
did  not  appear  to  be  satisfied,  for  these  holy  men  have  great 
expectations.  I  ordered  two  water-skins  filled,  and  after  an 
hour's  delay,  we  entered  on  the  akaba. 

Over  rough  and  stony  ridges,  which  made  hard  travelling 
for  the  camels,  we  came  upon  a  rolling  plain,  bounded  in 
the  distance  by  a  chain  of  hills,  which  we  reached  by  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon.  The  path,  instead  of  seeking  a  pass 
or  gorge,  led  directly  up  the  side,  which,  though  not  very 
high,  was  exceedingly  steep  and  covered  with  loose  sand, 
up  which  the  camels  could  scarcely  climb.  The  top  was 
a  stratum  of  red  porphyry,  cropping  out  of  the  sand  in 
immense  masses.  Behind  us  the  dreary  Desert  extended 
to  Djebel  Foga  and  the  mountains  about  the  cataract : 
the  palms  of  the  Nile  were  just  visible  in  the  distance. 
Crossing  the  summit  ridge,  we  entered  a  narrow  plateau, 
surrounded  by  naked  Muck  peaks — a  most  savage  and 
infernal  landscape.  The  northern  slope  was  completely 
covered  with  immense  porphyry  boulders,  among  which  our 
path  wound.  Nearly  every  rock  had  a  pile  of  small  stones 


464  JOURNKY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

heaped  upon  it,  as  a  guide  to  caravans,  and  merely  for  descend 
ing  this  ridge  there  were  at  least  two  hundred  of  them  Th« 
plain  now  extended  away  to  the  north  and  east,  bounded  by  a 
confusion  of  black,  barren  mountains,  out  of  which  rose  two 
ofty  peaks.  Towards  evening  we  met  a  Nubian  family,  with 
their  donkeys,  on  their  way  southward.  They  begged  for 
water,  which  we  gave  them,  as  their  supply  was  entirely  ex- 
hausted. I  found  a  bed  of  hard  gravel  large  enough  for  my 
tent,  but  we  had  great  difficulty  in  driving  the  pegs.  The 
camel-men  selected  the  softest  places  among  the  rocks  for 
their  beds,  but  the  camels  stretched  their  long  necks  on  all 
sides  in  the  vain  search  for  vegetation.  I  sat  at  my  tent  door, 
and  watched  the  short  twilight  of  the  South  gather  over  the 
stony  wilderness,  with  that  strange  feeling  of  happiness  which 
the  contemplation  of  waste  and  desolate  landscapes  always 
inspires.  There  was  not.  a  blade  of  grass  to  be  seen;  the 
rocks,  which  assumed  weird  and  grotesque  forms  in  the  twi- 
light, were  as  black  as  ink;  beyond  my  camp  there  was  no 
life  in  the  Desert  except  the  ostrich  and  the  hyena — yyt  I 
would  not  have  exchanged  the  charm  of  that  scene  for  a  bower 
in  the  gardens  of  the  Hesperides. 

The  dawn  was  glimmering  gray  and  cold'  when  I  arose,  and 
the  black  summits  of  the  mountains  showed  dimly  through  a 
watery  vapor.  The  air,  however,  was  dry,  though  cool  and 
invigorating,  and  I  walked  ahead  for  two  hours,  singing  and 
shouting  from  the  overflow  of  spirits.  I  hoped  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  Nile  before  mounting  my  dromedary,  but  one 
long  black  ridge  of  stones  rose  after  another,  and  there  wa^  r.c 
sudden  flash  of  green  across  tue  darkness  of  the  Desert.  At 
last,  towards  noon,  through  a  notch  in  the  drear  ami  stjni 


THE    STRUGGLE    OF   THE    NILE.  465 

chaos,  the  double  line  of  palms  appeared  in  the  north  east 
The  river  came  from  the  east,  out  of  the  black  mountain  wil 
derness.  The  valley  is  very  narrow,  and  cultivation  is  onlj 
possible  in  the  coves  of  soil  embayed  among  the  hills.  I  came 
down  on  one  of  them — a  meadow  of  halfeh,  back  of  the  little 
village  of  Koyee — and  stopped  an  hour  to  rest  the  camels.  A 
caravan  of  merchants,  bound  for  Kordofan  and  Dar-Fiir,  had 
just  encamped  there,  to  rest  during  the  hot  hours,  according  to 
their  custom.  Among  them  were  some  hadji,  or  pilgrims 
from  Dar-Fur,  on  their  way  home  from  Mecca,  and  a  negro 
from  Fazogl,  who  had  belonged  to  a  European,  and  had  lived 
in  Naples.  He  was  now  free  and  going  home,  wearing  a 
shabby  Frank  dress,  but  without  money,  as  he  came  at  once  to 
beg  of  me.  A  Nubian  woman  came  from  the  huts  near  at 
hand,  bringing  me  a  large  gourd  of  buttermilk,  which  I  shared 
with  the  camel-drivers. 

I  set  the  camels  in  motion  again,  and  we  entered  a  short 
akaba,  in  order  to  cross  a  broad  stony  ridge,  which  advanced 
quite  to  the  river's  edge.  The  path  was  up  and  down  the 
sides  of  steep  hollows,  over  a  terrible  waste  of  stone?.  Down 
these  hollows,  which  shelved  towards  the  river,  we  saw  the 
palms  of  the  opposite  bank — a  single  dark-green  line,  backed 
by  another  wilderness,  equally  savage.  Through  all  thif 
country  of  Mahass  the  Desert  makes  a  desperate  effort  to  cut 
off  the  glorious  old  River.  It  flings  rocks  into  its  bed,  squeezes 
him  between  iron  mountains,  compels  him  to  turn  and  twist 
tli  rough  a  hundred  labyrinths  to  find  a  passage,  but  he  pushes 
and  winds  his  way  through  all,  and  carries  his  bright  waters 
in  triumph  down  to  his  beloved  Egypt.  There  was,  to  me, 
iomething  exceedingly  touching  in  watching  his  course  through 
90* 


486  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

that  fragment  of  the  pre- Adamite  chaos — in  seeing  the  type  ol 
Beauty  and  Life  stealing  quietly  through  the  heart  of  a  regiot 
of  Desolation  and  Death.  From  the  stony  slopes  of  the  hills  I 
locked  down  on  his  everlasting  palms  with  the  same  old  joy 
new-created  in  my  heart. 

After  passing  the  akaba,  I  came  to  a  village  which  I  took 
to  be  Soleb,  but  on  inquiring,  the  people  pointed  ahead.  I 
rode  on,  around  a  slight  curve  of  the  trees,  and  was  startled 
by  a  landscape  of  most  unexpected  interest  and  beauty.  Before 
me,  over  the  crest  of  a  black,  rocky  ridge,  a  cluster  of  shatter- 
ed pillars  stood  around  the  falling  doorway  of  a  temple,  the 
whole  forming  a  picturesque  group,  cut  clear  against  the  sky. 
Its  tint  of  soft  yellow-gray,  was  finely  relieved  by  the  dark 
green  of  the  palms  and  the  pure  violet  of  some  distant  jagged 
peaks  on  the  eastern  bank.  Beyond  it,  to  the  west,  three 
peaks  of  white  and  purple  limestone  rock  trembled  in  the  fiery 
glare  from  the  desert  sands.  The  whole  picture,  the  Desert 
excepted,  was  more  Grecian  than  Egyptian,  and  was  perfect  in 
its  forms  and  groupings.  I  know  of  no  other  name  for  the 
ruin  than  the  Temple  of  Soleb.  It  was  erected  by  Amunoph 
HI.  or  Memnon,  and  the  Arcadian  character  of  the  landscape 
of  which  it  is  the  central  feature,  harmonized  thoroughly  with 
my  fancy,  that  Amunoph  was  a  poet. 

The  temple  stands  on  the  west  bank,  near  the  river,  and 
from  whatever  point  it  is  viewed,  has  a  striking  effect.  The 
remains  consist  of  a  portico,  on  a  raised  platform,  leading  to  a 
court  once  surrounded  by  pillars.  Then  follows  a  second  and 
more  spacious  portico,  with  a  double  row  of  three  pillars  on 
each  side.  This  opens  upon  a  second  pillared  court,  at,  the 
opposite  end  of  which  is  a  massive  doorway,  leading  to  the 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLEB.  467 

cryta  of  the  temple,  now  completely  levelled  to  the  earth.  Thb 
entire  length  of  the  ruin  is  about  two  hundred  feet.  There 
are  nine  pillars,  with  a  single  block  of  their  architrave,  and 
portions  of  two  of  the  porticoes  still  standing :  the  reinaindei 
of  the  temple  is  a  mass  of  ruins.  The  greatest  pains  have  been 
taken  to  destroy  it  completely,  and  all  the  mound  on  which  it 
stands  is  covered  with  huge  blocks,  thrown  one  over  the  other 
in  the  wildest  confusion.  In  one  place,  only,  I  noticed  the 
disjointed  segments  of  a  column,  still  lying  as  they  fell.  The 
pedestals  remain  in  many  places,  so  that  one  can  partially 
restore  the  original  order.  When  complete,  it  must  have  been 
a  majestic  and  imposing  edifice.  The  material  is  the  white 
limestone  of  the  adjacent  mountains,  veined  with  purple 
streaks,  and  now  much  decomposed  from  the  sun  and  rain. 
From  the  effect  of  this  decomposition,  the  columns  which 
remain  standing  are  cracked  and  split  in  many  places,  and  in 
the  fissures  thus  made,  numbers  of  little  swallows  and  star- 
lings have  built  their  nests,  where  they  sit  peeping  out  through 
the  sculptures  of  gods.  The  columns  and  doorways  are  cover- 
ed with  figures,  now  greatly  blurred,  though  still  legible.  I 
noticed  a  new  style  of  joining  the  portrait  of  a  monarch  with 
his  cartouche,  the  latter  representing  his  body,  out  of  which 
his  head  and  arms  issued,  like  the  crest  of  a  coat  of  arms. 
The  columns  represent  the  stalks  of  eight  water-plants  found 
together,  with  a  capital,  or  rather  prolonged  abacus,  like  the 
Osiride  column.  They  are  thirty  feet  in  height,  without  the 
pedestal,  and  five  feet  in  diameter.  This  is  the  sum  of  my 
observations  :  the  rest  belongs  to  the  antiquarian. 

Before  night,  we  passed  a  third  akaba,  to  get  around  the 
omestone  ridge,  which  here  builds  a  buttress  of  naked  rook 


468  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA 

aver  the  Nile,  and  at  sunset  again  saw  the  palms — but  this 
time  the  renowned  palms  of  Dar  Sukkot,  for  we  had  crossed 
the  border  of  Dar  El-Mahass.  They  lined  the  river  in  a  thick 
grove  of  stems,  with  crowns  of  leafy  luxuriance.  The  village 
of  Noolwee,  scattered  for  half  a  mile  in  their  shade,  was  better 
built  than  any  I  saw  in  Dongola.  Many  of  the  houses  wero 
inclosed  in  square  courts,  and  had  a  second  story,  the  massive 
mud  walls  sloping  towards  each  other  like  a  truncated  pyra- 
mid. Achmet,  All  and  myself  bought  about  fifty  piastres 
worth  of  the  celebrated  dates  of  Sukkot.  They  were  the 
largest  and  best  flavored  I  ever  saw,  and  are  said  to  preserve 
their  quality  for  years.  They  are  sold  at  a  piastre  for  an 
earthen  measure  containing  about  two  hundred.  When  gath- 
ered, they  are  first  slightly  dried  in  the  large  magazines,  and 
then  buried  in  the  earth.  The  population  of  Sukkot  subsists 
apparently  on  the  profits  of  selling  them,  for  little  else  is  culti- 
vated along  the  river.  Even  here,  nevertheless,  where  the 
people  are  better  able  to  bear  the  grinding  rule  of  Egypt,  one 
meets  with  deserted  fields  and  ruined  dwellings.  The  King 
of  El-Mahass  informed  me,  when  in  Khartoum,  that  his  people 
were  obliged  to  pay  six  hundred  piastres  (thirty  dollars)  tax 
on  each  water-mill,  being  just  double  the  lawful  amount, 
(which,  alone,  is  very  oppressive),  and  that  his  country  was 
fast  becoming  depopulated,  in  consequence. 

On  the  following  day  I  passed  the  large  island  of  Sai.  The 
country  here  is  more  open  and  the  Nile  has  a  less  vexed  course 
The  mountains,  especially  the  lofty  blue  mass  of  Djebel  Abyr, 
have  not  the  forced  and  violent  forms  common  to  the  porphyry 
formation  Their  outlines  are  long,  sloping,  and  with  thai 
slight  but  exquisite  undulation  which  so  charmed  me  in  the 


A    SEA    Of    SAND.  469 

hills  of  Arcadia,  in  Greece,  and  in  Monte  Albano  near  Rome; 
Their  soft,  clear,  pale-violet  hue  showed  with  the  lovelies! 
effect  behind  the  velvety  green  of  the  thick  palm  clusters, 
which  were  parted  here  and  there  by  gleams  of  the  bright  blue 
river.  From  the  northern  end  of  Sai,  the  river  gradually 
curves  to  the  east.  The  western  shore  is  completely  invaded 
by  the  sands,  and  the  road  takes  a  wide  sweep  inland  to  avoid 
the  loose,  sliding  drifts  piled  up  along  the  bank.  We  had  not 
gone  far  before  we  found  a  drift  of  brilliant  yellow  sand  thirty 
feet  high  and  two  hundred  yards  in  length,  lying  exactly  acrosa 
our  road.  It  had  evidently  been  formed  within  a  few  days. 
It  was  almost  precisely  crescent-shaped,  and  I  could  not  account 
for  the  action  of  the  wind  in  building  such  a  mound  on  an  open 
plain,  which  elsewhere  was  entirely  free  from  sand.  We 
rounded  it  and  soon  afterwards  entered  on  a  region  of  sand, 
whore  to  the  west  and  north  the  rolling  yellow  waves  extended 
to  the  horizon,  unbroken  by  a  speck  of  any  other  color.  It 
was  a  boundless,  fathomless  sea  of  sand  to  the  eye,  which  could 
scarcely  bear  the  radiated  light  playing  over  its  hot  surface. 
The  day  (for  a  wonder)  was  somewhat  overcast,  and  as  the 
shadows  of  small  clouds  followed  one  another  rapidly  over  the 
glaring  billows,  they  seemed  to  heave  and  roll  like  those  of  the 
eea.  I  was  forced  to  turn  away  my  head,  faint  and  giddy 
with  the  sight.  My  camels  tugged  painfully  through  this 
region,  and  after  two  hours  we  reached  a  single  soiit  tree, 
standing  beside  a  well,  and  called  sugger  el-abd  (the  Tree  oi 
the  Sl*ve).  It  was  pointed  out  by  the  camel-men  as  being 
halfway  between  El  Ordee  and  Wadi  Haifa. 

We  journeyed  on  all  the  afternoon  through  a  waste  of  sandy 
*nd  stony  ridges,  and  as  night  drew  near,  I  became  anxious  to 


470  JOURXEY  TO  CENTRAL  AFRICA. 

reach  the  river,  no  trace  of  which  could  be  seen.  T  rode  up 
one  of  the  highest  ridges,  and  lo!  there  were  the  tups  of  the 
date-groves  in  a  hollow,  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  on 
my  right.  The  camels'  heads  were  soon  turned  in  that  direc- 
tion, and  I  encamped  at  once  on  the  bank,  where  my  beasts 
found  sufficient  grass  and  thorns  for  the  first  time  in  three 
days.  The  river  here  flows  in  a  deep  channel,  buried  among 
the  hills,  and  there  is  neither  cultivation  nor  population  on  the 
western  bank.  On  the  opposite  side  there  was  a  narrow  strip 
of  soil,  thickly  planted  with  date-trees. 

My  camel-men  kindled  a  fire  in  the  splendid  moonlight,  and 
regaled  themselves  with  the  hind-quarters  of  a  hyena,  which 
they  roasted  in  the  coals  and  devoured  with  much  relish.  1 
had  curiosity  enough  to  eat  a  small  piece,  which  was  well- 
flavored  though  tough.  The  Nile  roared  grandly  below  oul 
camp  all  night,  in  the  pauses  of  the  wind. 


Abou-Sin,  my  Dromedary. 

CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

THE        BATN        BL-HADJAR. 

Tlw  Batn  El-Hadjar,  or  Belly  of  Stone— Ancient  Granite  Quarries— The  Village  of 
Dal— A  Buimed  Fortress— A  Wilderness  of  Stones— The  Hot  Springs  of  Ukme— A 
Windy  Night— A  Dreary  Day  in  the  Desert— The  Shekh's  Camel  Fails— Descent  to 
Satnneh— The  Temple  and  Cataract— Meersheh— The  Sale  of  Abou-Sin— We 
Emerge  from  the  Belly  of  Stone — A  Kababisb  Caravan — The  Rock  of  Abon-Seer— 
View  of  the  Second  Cataract— We  reach  Wadi-IIalfa— Selling  my  Dromedaries- 
Farewell  to  Abou-Sin — Thanksgiving  on  the  Ferry-boat — Parting  with  the  Camel 


ON  the  sixth  day  after  leaving  Dongola  I  passed  through 
Sukkot,  and  reached  the  commencement  of  Batn  El-Hadjar— 
The  Belly  of  Stone — as  the  savage  mountain  country  for  a 


472  JOURNEY  TO  CENTRAL  AFRICA 

aundred  miles  south  of  the  Second  Cataract  is  termed.  With 
each  day  the  road  became  more  rough  and  toilsome,  and  my 
camels  moved  more  languidly.  In  spite  of  the  fatigue  which 
we  all  endured,  I  felt  so  much  strengthened  by  our  free  life 
and  so  much  interested  in  the  remarkable  country  through 
which  we  were  passing,  that  I  felt  something  like  regret  on 
approaching  the  southern  limit  of  travel  on  the  Nile.  Not  so 
my  dragoman  and  servant,  who  could  not  enough  thank  God 
and  the  Prophet  for  having  taken  them  in  safety  through 
countries  which  they  deemed  the  verge  of  the  world.  Achmet 
positively  declared  he  would  never  make  the  trip  again,  for  no 
second  journey  could  be  equally  fortunate.  My  camel-men,  I 
found,  had  never  before  travelled  to  Wadi  Haifa  by  the  west- 
ern bank,  but  by  a  wonderful  Arab  instinct,  they  never  wenl 
astray  from  the  road. 

The  Batn  El-Hadjar  marks  its  commencement  by  a  range 
of  granite  hills,  which  break  the  river  into  a  foaming  cataract. 
After  leaving  camp,  our  road  lay  along  the  Nile,  behind  some 
high  sand-hills.  In  front  of  us  appeared  Djebel  Ufeer,  a  peak 
about  fifteen  hundred  feet  in  height,  its  naked  sides  tinted  of  a 
deep,  rich  purple  hue  by  the  glowing  air.  The  Nile  flows 
directly  towards  its  base,  making  a  slight  curve,  as  if  to  pass 
it  on  the  eastern  side,  but  finding  the  granite  rocks  heaped 
together  too  thickly,  changes  its  course  and  washes  the  western 
foot  of  the  mountain.  The  granite  lies  scattered  about  in  vast 
masses,  taking  all  sorts  of  quaint  and  fanciful  shapes.  The 
hills  themselves  are  merely  collections  of  boulders  of  all  sizes, 
from  three  to  twenty  feet  in  diameter,  piled  on  an  enormous 
oed  or  stratum  of  the  same.  Intermixed  with  this  are  beds 
of  a  rich  yellowish-red  granite,  which  crops  out  under  the  piles 


GRANITE    QUARRIES DAL.  4£ 

of  gray,  and  has  been  worked,  wherever  it  appears  in  large 
masses.  The  traces  of  the  ancient  quarrymen  still  remain,  io 
the  blocks  bearing  marks  of  the  wooden  wedges  by  which  they 
were  split.  In  one  place  I  noticed  two  fragments  of  a  column, 
similar  to  those  in  the  palace  at  Old  Dougola.  The  granite  is 
equal  in  quality  and  still  more  abundant  than  that  at  Assouan, 
but  was  only  quarried  to  a  limited  extent:  The  aspect  of  the 
country  is  rugged  in  the  highest  degree,  and  how  the  Nile  getfl 
through  it  became  more  and  more  a  wonder  to  me.  His  bed 
is  deep-sunken  between  enormous  stone  piles,  back  of  which  are 
high  stone  mountains,  and  wherever  there  is  a  hollow  between 
them,  it  is  filled  with  sand.  The  only  vegetation  was  a  few 
bunches  of  miserable  grass,  and  some  of  those  desert  shrubs 
which  grow  at  the  very  doors  of  Tartarus,  so  tenacious  of  life  art 
they.  A  narrow  shelf,  on  the  opposite  bank,  high  above  the 
river,  bore  the  renowned  palm  of  Sukkot,  and  frequently  in  the 
iHtle  coves  I  saw  the  living  green  of  the  young  wheat.  The 
steep  banks  were  planted  with  lupins,  as  the  people  there  had 
nnthing  to  fear  from  the  hippopotami. 

While  I  was  breakfasting  off  a  great  granite  table,  a  man 
who  rode  by  on  a  donkey  cheered  me  with  the  news  that  the 
village  of  Dal  was  but  a  short  distance  ahead.  I  had  fixed 
upon  this  as  our  resting-place  for  the  night,  but  on  finding  it 
so  near,  resolved  to  push  on  to  some  natural  hot  springs  and 
ruins  of  ancient  baths,  which  the  camel-men  had  informed  me 
were  about  four  hours  further,  to  the  right  of  the  caravan 
track.  At  Dal,  however,  a  difficult  akaba  commences,  and  my 
camels  already  marched  so  slowly  and  wearily  that  I  judged 
it  best  to  stop  and  give  them  a  little  rest.  About  the  village 
there  are  some  scattering  doum  and  date-palms,  which  lead  a 


414  JOURNEV    TO    CENTRAL    AFR1O1. 

hard  existence,  half  buried  in  sand  and  choked  with  :he  old 
leaves,  which  the  natives  are  too  idle  to  prune.  The  people 
were  in  the  fields,  cutting  some  wheat  which  was  just  ripe,  and 
two  sakias,  shaded  by  clusters  of  palms,  watered  a  few  patches 
of  cotton.  I  made  inquiries,  but  had  much  difficulty  in  finding 
the  location  of  the  hot  springs.  Finally,  one  of  the  men  con- 
sented to  become  my  guide  in  the  morning,  and  conducted  us 
to  a  camping-ground,  where  there  was  a  little  grass  for  the 
camels.  Lured  by  the  promise  of  backsheesh,  he  brought  me 
the  leanest  of  young  sheep,  which  I  purchased  for  eight  pias- 
tres. The  night  was  calm,  cool  and  delicious,  and  steeped  my 
whole  frame  in  balm,  after  the  burning  day.  The  moon,  near- 
ly full,  shone  with  a  gray  and  hazy  lustre,  and  some  insect 
that  shrilled  like  a  tree- toad,  reminded  me  of  home. 

Our  Dallee  guide,  Hadji  Mohammed,  as  he  was  called 
from  having  made  two  pilgrimages  to  Mecca,  was  on  hand  be- 
fore sunrise.  Starting  in  advance  of  the  caravan,  I  walked 
along  the  river-bank,  towards  a  castellated  building  on  an  emi- 
nence which  I  had  noticed  the  previous  evening,  while  sketch- 
ing the  landscape.  My  path  was  over  huge  beds  of  gray 
granite,  from  which  the  old  Egyptians  might  have  cut  obelisks 
of  a  single  block,  not  only  one  hundred,  but  five  hundred  feet 
in  length.  The  enormous  masses  which  had  been  separated 
from  these  beds  and  rolled  into  rounded  masses  by  the  chafing 
of  primeval  floods,  lay  scattered  on  the  surface,  singly,  or  piled 
in  fantastic  groups.  The  building  was  a  large  fortress  ot 
stones  and  clay,  with  massive  walls,  on  the  summit  of  an 
island-like  peak  overhanging  the  river,  and  separated  from  the 
bank  by  a  deep  chasm,  which  is  filled  with  water  during  the 
inundations,  but  was  then  dry,  and  its  sides  green,  with  wheat 


A    WILDERNESS    OF    STONES.  475 

ind  beaus.  Wild  doum-palms,  hanging  heavy  with  green  fruit, 
grew  in  the  patches  of  soil  among  the  rocks  and  overhung  the 
ravine.  The  fortress  was  a  very  picturesque  object,  with  ita 
three  square  towers,  backed  by  the  roaring  flood  and  the  dark 
violet-blue  crags  of  Djebel  Meme  behind  The  forms  of  the 
landscape — except  the  palms — were  all  of  the  far  North,  but 
the  coloring  was  that  of  the  ripe  and  glowing  South.  I  was  so 
absorbed  in  the  scene,  that  the  caravan  passed  unnoticed,  hav- 
ing taken  a  path  further  from  the  river.  After  wandering 
about  for  some  time,  I  climbed  one  of  the  granite  piles  and 
scanned  the  country  in  all  directions,  but  could  see  nothing. 
Finally  I  descried  a  distant  trail,  and  on  reaching  it,  recog- 
nized the  tracks  of  my  camels.  I  hurried  on,  and  in  half  an 
hour  met  Hadji  Mohammed  and  one  of  my  camel- men,  coming 
hack  in  great  tribulation,  fearful  that  I  was  lost. 

Near  the  Cataract  of  Dal,  an  akaba  commences,  which  ex- 
tends to  the  village  of  Ukine,  in  the  Batn  el-Hadjar,  a  dis- 
tance of  about  fifteen  miles.  We  passed  behind  some  peaks  of 
black  porphyry,  whose  shoulders  were  covered  with  steep,  slid 
ing  drifts  of  yellow  sand,  and  travelled  on  through  a  wilder 
ness  of  stones.  All  the  refuse  odds  and  ends  of  Creation — 
the  pieces  left  after  the  rocks  and  mountains  of  the  rest  of  the 
world  were  fashioned — have  been  thrown  together  here.  It 
was  a  sea  of  black  stone-mounds,  out  of  which  rose  occasional 
peaks  of  still  blacker  stone.  Through  this  we  passed  into  a 
region  of  gray  stone  and  then  into  anothei  of  red  stone,  jour- 
neying for  four  hours  up  one  mound  and  down  another,  by 
paths  and  no  paths,  which  were  most  laborious  for  our  camels. 
I  began  to  be  fearful  we  should  never  get  out  of  the  geological 
labyrinth  into  which  the  hadji  conducted  us,  but  the  majeutie 


476  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

range  of  Djebel  El-Lamool,  beyond  the  Nile,  served  him  as  a 
guide.  He  looked  occasionally  towards  a  bastion-like  projec- 
tion in  the  sheer  walls  of  porphyry,  and  at  last,  when  I  was 
quite  tired  and  famished,  took  us  up  a  ridge  whence  I  saw  th« 
river  again  below  us.  The  road  into  the  valley  was  next  to 
impracticable,  but  our  camels  stumbled  and  scrambled  and  slid 
till  they  reached  the  ledge  of  halfeh  overhanging  the  river. 
Below  us  was  a  square  mass  of  burnt  brick,  about  ten  feet  in 
height — part  of  a  building  long  since  destroyed.  "  Here  ia 
the  bath,"  said  the  hadji.  We  dismounted,  and  he  conducted 
us  to  the  foot  of  the  ruin,  where,  in  a  hole  in  the  earth,  a 
spring  of  water  bubbled  up  profusely,  and  trickled  away, 
through  a  trough  of  stones.  There  was  an  end  of  my  antici- 
pations of  a  refreshing  bath,  for  which  I  had  come  prepared. 
The  water  was  hot  enough,  in  truth  (131°),  and  I  could  not 
bear  my  hand  below  the  surface.  Under  the  bank,  a  dozen 
springs  with  a  smaller  flow  of  water,  oozed  through  the  soil, 
which  was  covered  with  a  whitish  deposit  in  places.  To  atone 
for  my  disappointment,  I  took  breakfast  in  the  shadow  of  the 
ruined  wall,  while  my  camel-men  bathed  themselves  in  the  wa- 
ter, with  many  exclamations  of  "  Bismillahi  !  "  (In  the  name 
of  God).  The  hadji  then  left  us,  and  we  followed  the  Nile 
past  the  cataracts  of  Song  and  Tangoori,  which  latter  we  heard 
all  night,  roaring  grandly  between  the  gusts  of  wind. 

During  the  night  the  wind  blew  violently,  and  I  had  great 
fears  that  my  tent  would  come  down  about  my  ears.  I  helped 
the  sand  against  it  on  the  outside,  for  further  protection,  but 
every  thing  within  was  so  covered  that  its  original  color  could 
no  longer  be  discerned.  The  moon  shone  between  wild  and 
itoriny  clouds,  and  all  signs  betokened  a  gust  of  rain.  W« 


A    DREARY    DAY    IN    THE    DESERT.  471 

took  more  than  ordinary  precautions  in  the  disposition  of  our 
baggage,  as  this  part  of  the  road  was  much  infested  with  ma- 
rauding bands  of  Kababish,  who  came  from  the  side  of  Dar- 
Fur  and  plundered  the  inhabitants  along  the  river,  as  well  aa 
small  caravans.  I  trusted  in  the  protection  afforded  by  my 
tent,  which,  from  its  appearance,  would  be  taken  as  belonging 
to  an  officer  of  the  government. 

On  the  eighth  day  we  rose — for  the  first  time  in  all  mj 
African  travel — in  a  cold,  raw  and  cloudy  dawn.  Fortunately 
for  us,  a  company  of  merchants,  bound  for  Wadi- Haifa,  passed 
at  daybreak,  for  we  entered  on  an  akdba  of  unknown  length, 
and  the  wind  had  blown  so  violently  within  the  last  few  days 
that  the  old  caravan  trail  was  not  to  be  found.  The  country 
was  a  wilderness  even  more  drear  than  those  we  had  passed 
On  climbing  the  long  stony  surges,  I  sometimes  nattered  my- 
self with  the  hope  of  seeing  beyond  the  Desert ;  but  no— I 
had  only  a  more  extended  horizon.  Long,  shadowy  streaks  01 
rain  swept  along  the  eastern  horizon,  and  the  mountain  chains 
which  lay  against  them  were  colored  the  darkest  and  intensest 
shade  of  violet — precisely  that  of  the  lower  leaves  of  the  pansy. 
As  we  advanced,  the  air  grew  colder,  and  a  shower  of  large, 
scattering  drops  passed  over  us.  The  camels  shrank  and  trem- 
bled, and  my  men  crept  behind  them  for  shelter.  Though  it 
was  a  satisfaction  to  know  that  those  African  skies  can  rain 
sometimes,  I  was  soon  so  benumbed  as  to  need  my  capote. 
The  temperature  was  perhaps  not  lower  than  60°,  yet  I  felt  it 
severely,  About  ten  o'clock,  the  shekh's  camel,  which  had  be- 
fore shown  symptoms  of  fatigue,  lay  down  and  refused  to  go 
further.  As  it  was  impossible  to  stop  in  the  Desert,  I  dis- 
tributed its  load  among  the  other  four,  and  ordered  him  to 


«78  JOtTRNET   TO    OKVTRAL    AFRICA. 

drive  it  loose  behind  us.  This,  however,  was  of  no  avail,  and 
at  last  he  concluded  to  wait  till  it  had  rested  a  little.  I  gave 
him  the  water  skin,  and  we  pushed  on.  Half  an  hour  af 
terwards,  when  I  was  eating  breakfast  under  the  lee  of  a 
sand-hill,  Ali,  who  had  remained  behind  with  him,  came  up, 
saying  they  had  examined  the  camel  and  decided  that  it  was 
sick.  The  shekh  thereupon  wept  most  vehemently,  fearing  it 
would  die,  and  turned  about  with  it  to  make  his  way  home. 
Ali  lent  him  a  dollar  and  promised  to  take  him  the  rest  of  the 
uoney  due  him.  The  other  men  were  quite  downcast  by  the 
shekh's "  misfortune.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done,  how- 
ever, but  to  push  ahead,  as  the  other  camels  were  well  nigh 
worn  out. 

We  kept  on  all  the  afternoon,  with  the  cold  wind  blowing 
in  our  faces,  and  occasionally  a  shower  of  colder  rain  dashed 
upon  us.  The  road  ascended  until  towards  noon,  when  we 
passed  through  a  gateway  between  two  peaks  of  granite,  whose 
loose  masses  threatened  to  topple  down  the  sides  and  crush  us. 
Then  for  three  or  four  hours  we  travelled  over  more  elevated 
ranges,  from  the  crests  of  which  we  had  wide  glimpses  over  the 
terrible  tract,  yet  could  see  nothing  but  sand  and  stones — stones 
and  sand.  In  the  east  a  long  mountain-range  lay  dark  and 
distant,  under  the  shadow  of  the  rain-clouds,  and  it  was  some 
comfort  to  know  that  it  was  beyond  the  Nile.  As  night  ap- 
proached, I  feared  we  should  be  obliged  to  camp  in  the  akaba, 
and  without  water,  but  after  ten  hours  of  most  wearisome 
travel,  we  reached  a  ridge,  whence  we  looked  into  a  vast  basin 
of  rocky  hills,  between  us  and  the  mountains,  whose  long  chain 
of  jagged  peaks,  touched  with  the  full  yellow  light  of  the  set- 
ting sun,  stood  against  the  black  gust  that  rolled  away  beyond 


TEMPLE    AND    CATARACT    OF    SAMHKH.  179 

them  into  the  Great  Nubian  Desert.  The  Nile  was  not  to  be 
seen,  yet  deep  in  the  centre  of  this  landscape,  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  some  thorny  bushes,  which  our  further  descent 
showed  to  be  near  the  village  and  cataract  of  Samneh.  The 
bed  of  the  river  was  filled  with  masses  of  black  rock,  and  the 
cataract,  just  below  the  village,  roared  magnificently  all 
through  the  night.  The  wind  blew  again,  and  so  violently, 
that  I  awoke  with  my  ears,  mouth  and  nostrils  filled  with  sand. 
The  morning  was  cold,  with  a  violent  wind,  but  I  strength- 
ened my  camels  with  an  abundant  feed  of  bean-vines  and  dour 
ra,  and  set  off  early.  I  walked  ahead  to  the  temple  of  Sam- 
neh, which  stands  on  a  rocky  eminence  above  the  cataract. 
The  hill  is  surrounded  with  the  remains  of  a  massive  brick 
wall,  and  there  are  traces  of  a  road  leading  to  the  summit 
The  temple  is  quite  small,  and  of  simple  though  graceful  de 
sign,  containing  only  one  chamber,  at  the  end  of  which  a  head 
less  statue  lies  on  its  back.  From  the  little  portico  in  front 
there  is  a  fine  view  of  the  gorge  through  which  the  river  breaks. 
A  broad  stratum  of  porphyry  crosses  his  bed,  broken  only  in 
the  centre  by  a  gap  or  flood-gate,  not  twenty  yards  across. 
Through  this  the  whole  force  of  his  current  is  poured,  and  at 
the  time  of  my  visit,  when  the  water  was  low,  he  seemed  but  a 
pigmy  flood.  In  fact,  for  a  mile  or  two  below  this  cataract, 
there  is  scarcely  any  point  in  all  his  tortuous  and  difficult 
course  where  one  might  not  throw  a  stone  across.  After  leav- 
ing the  temple,  our  road  led  over  the  desolate  stony  hills,  high 
»bove  the  river's  bed.  We  looked  down  into  the  deep  and 
narrow  defile  through  which  he  flows,  and  which  his  waters 
scarcely  brightened  or  cheered,  for  there  was  no  vegetation  on 
his  banks  except  now  and  then  a  bunch  of  halfeh  grass  or  a 


480  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL   AFRICA. 

few  stunted  thorns.  The  air  was  so  bracing  that  I  felt  nc 
more  fatigue,  but  only  regret,  that  the  journey  was  so  near  its 
close.  Old  Mohammed  walked  ahead,  singing  his  accustomed 
song :  "  Koolloo  nasee  fee  djennatee,  tefoddhel,  ya  er-rakh- 
man  !  "  (0  Most  Merciful,  grant  that  all  my  people  may  enter 
thy  Heavens  !)  Thus  we  travelled  all  day,  and  towards  even- 
ing came  down  to  the  Nile  again  at  the  little  village  of  Meer- 
aheh. 

This  place  is  a  beautiful  little  oasis  in  the  midst  of  th« 
savage  Belly  of  Stone.  The  Nile  has  a  more  gentle  current, 
and  his  banks  have  room  enough  for  some  groves  of  luxuriant 
date-trees,  and  fields  of  wheat  and  cotton.  My  tent  was 
pitched  beside  the  rustling  palms,  and  I  sat  down  with  a  glad 
heart  and  a  full  pipe,  on  the  last  night  of  my  long  and  toil- 
somt  journey  by  land.  During  the  evening  one  of  the  natives 
took  a  fancy  to  my  Abou-Sin,  and  made  numerous  small  offers 
for  the  purchase  of  him.  I  refused,  preferring  to  send  him  on 
to  Assouan,  but  in  the  morning  the  man  came  again,  and  at 
last,  with  many  struggles,  raised  his  price  to  one  hundred  and 
ninety  piastres,  whereupon  I  thought  it  best  to  sell  and  so 
avoid  all  further  trouble.  I  stipulated,  however,  that  Abou- 
Sin  was  to  be  delivered  to  him  at  Wadi-Halfa,  and  that  he 
should  accompany  us  thither  on  the  morrow.  The  night  was 
intensely  cold,  although  the  air  was  probably  not  below  60° 
I  could  hardly  bear  the  coldness  of  the  water  in  the  morning, 
It  stung  my  burnt  face  like  fire,  and  increased  the  pains  of  mj 
unfortunate  cracked  nose.  The  Barabras  brought  me  some 
milk  for  my  coffee  in  a  basket  of  closely-plaited  grass,  smeared 
with  grease  on  tne  inside.  It  precisely  resembled  those  bas- 
kets made  by  the  Indians  of  California,  which  will  carry  water 


A    KABABISH    CARAVAN.  481 

The  inilk,  however,  had  a  taste  of  the  rancid  grease,  which 
prevented  me  from  drinking  much  of  it. 

We  arose  shivering  in  the  early  dawn,  and  for  the  last  time 
put  the  loads  on  our  fagged  and  unwilling  camels.  Soon  after 
starting,  I  saw  ahead,  through  a  gateway  of  black  porphyry 
rocks,  the  long,  yellow  sand-hills  of  the  Libyan  Desert,  like 
those  which  line  the  western  bank  of  the  Nile,  from  Assouan 
to  Korosko.  This  was  a  joyful  token  that  we  had  reached  the 
end  of  the  savage  Batn  El-Hadjar.  As  we  were  travelling 
over  the  rolling  upland  of  yellow  sand,  enjoying  the  view  of 
the  wild  frontier  of  the  Belly  of  Stone,  out  of  which  we  had 
just  issued,  a  large  caravan  of  Kababish  Arabs,  returning 
towards  Dar-Fur  with  empty  camels,  met  us.  There  were 
upwards  of  fifty  camels  and  thirty  men — half-naked  savages, 
with  projecting  features,  wild  eyes,  and  a  wilderness  of  hair  on 
their  heads.  The  Kababish  were  easily  distinguished  by  their 
long  plaits,  laid  close  to  the  head,  and  smeared  with  fat.  The 
others,  who  had  enormous  masses  of  wool,  standing  out  in  sU 
directions  for  a  foot  or  more,  were  probably  Howoweet,  from 
the  side  of  Dar-Fur.  We  asked  the  distance  to  Wadi  Haifa, 
and  were  answered  with  the  universal  "  hassa,"  (just  now  1) 
whereby  these  people  designate  any  indefinite  period  of  time. 

After  three  or  four  hours,  I  began  to  look  out  for  Abou- 
Seer,  a  lofty  cliff  to  which  travellers  repair  for  a  bird's-eye 
view  of  the  Second  Cataract — to  them  the  turning  point  cf 
their  Nile  journey,  to  me  the  termination  of  my  long  mid 
African  rambles,  and  the  commencement  of  my  return  to  tho 
living  world.  Our  road  was  a  mile  or  two  behind  the  river, 
»nd  as  Achmet  had  only  visited  the  mountain  from  the  side  of 
Wadi  Haifa,  he  could  not  serve  as  a  guide.  I  turned  into  the 
21 


482  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

hills,  taking  him,  Mohammed  and  Ali,  and  leaving  the  other 
man  to  go  on  with  the  baggage  camels.  We  wandered  foi 
some  time  over  the  rough  ridges,  and  at  last  reached  a  spur 
of  the  hills  which  Achmet  took  to  be  Abou-Seer.  but  which 
was  not  it.  I  was  so  hungry  that  I  stopped  for  breakfast,  and 
before  I  had  finished,  Ali,  who  was  overflowing  with  joy  at  the 
idea  of  reaching  Wadi  Haifa,  came  to  me  with  the  news  that 
he  had  been  climbing  a  high  point,  whence  he  could  see  the 
end  of  the  mountains.  The  Nile,  beyond,  he  said,  was  broad 
and  smooth,  and  there  were  more  date-trees  than  he  had  seen 
since  leaving  Sukkot.  I  left  him  to  ride  my  Abou-Sin,  and 
walked  on  to  the  peak  he  had  climbed.  As  I  reached  its  base, 
however,  I  saw  that  the  true  headland  projected  still  further 
beyond,  terminating  hi  a  cone-like  summit.  As  I  came  out 
from  among  the  hills  behind  it,  the  view  suddenly  opened 
before  me  far  to  the  north  and  east,  and  I  saw  the  long  date- 
groves  of  Wadi  Haifa  apparently  at  my  feet. 

Abou-Seer  is  a  cliff  of  calcareous  rock,  and  its  base  is  com- 
pletely covered  with  the  names  of  tourists  who  have  visited  it. 
Achmet  wanted  me  to  add  my  name  to  theirs,  but  as  I  had 
brought  no  hammer  and  chisel  from  Cairo,  like  most  travellers, 
I  could  not  gratify  him.  A  few  steps  took  me  to  the  summit 
of  the  cliff,  which  drops  on  the  eastern  side  in  a  sheer  preci- 
pice to  the  water's  edge.  It  is  at  least  three  hundred  feet  in 
perpendicular  height,  and  as  it  forms  the  corner  of  the  range, 
the  view  on  three  sides  is  uninterrupted  for  many  leagues. 
The  panorama  is  truly  grand,  and  probably  unlike  any  other 
in  the  world.  To  the  south  the  mountains  of  the  Batn  El 
Hadjar  rise  like  a  black  wall,  out  of  which  the  Nile  forces  its 
way,  not  in  a  broad  sheet,  but  in  a  hundred  vexed  streams. 


THE    SECOND    CATARACT.  483 

gurgling  up  amid  chaotic  heaps  of  rocks  as  if  from  subterra- 
nean sources,  foaming  and  fretting  their  difficult  way  round 
endless  islands  and  reefs,  meeting  and  separating,  seeking 
every  where  an  outlet  and  finding  none,  till  at  last,  as  if  weary 
of  the  long  contest,  the  rocks  recede,  and  the  united  waters 
spread  themselves  out,  sluggish  and  exhausted,  on  the  sands 
below.  It  is  a  wonderful  picture  of  strife  between  two  mate 
rial  forces,  but  so  intricate  and  labyrinthine  in  its  features, 
that  the  eye  can  scarcely  succeed  in  separating  them,  or  in 
viewing  it  other  than  as  a  whole.  The  streams,  in  their  thou- 
sand windings,  appear  to  flow  towards  all  points  of  the  compass, 
and  from  their  continual  noise  and  motion  on  all  sides,  the 
whole  fantastic  wilderness  of  rock  seems  to  heave  and  tug,  as 
it  is  throttled  by  the  furious  waters.  This  is  the  last  great 
struggle  and  triumph  of  the  Nile.  Henceforth,  his  tortured 
waters  find  repose.  He  goes  down  to  Egypt  as  a  conquerer, 
crowned  with  a  double  majesty  after  all  his  toils.  Is  it  to  be 
wondered  at,  that  the  ancient  race  which  existed  by  his  bounty 
should  worship  him  as  a  God  ? 

But  by  this  time  we  saw  our  baggage-camels,  like  specks  on 
the  sand,  approaching  Wadi  Haifa.  Ali,  unable  to  contain 
himself,  started  off  on  a  run,  and  we  soon  lost  sight  of  him.  I 
mounted  my  faithful  big  dromedary,  Abou-Sin,  and  after  two 
more  hours  on  his  lofty  hump,  dismounted  at  the  ferry-place, 
opposite  Wadi  Haifa,  never,  alas !  to  mount  him  again.  A 
boat  with  a  company  of  merchants  from  Cairo  had  just  arrived, 
and  the  sailors  were  unloading  their  packages  of  merchandise. 
The  merchants  came  up  and  saluted  me,  and  could  scarcely 
beliovo  that  I  had  been  so  far  as  the  White  Nile.  They  were 
bound  for  Dongola,  and  one  of  them,  learning  that  my  brown 


484  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA.. 

dromedary  was  for  sale,  offered  to  buy  it.  Aehmet  c  )nducted 
the  business  for  me,  for  the  bargaining  lasted  at  least  two 
hours,  before  the  purchaser  succeeded  in  slowly  struggling  up 
to  a  decent  price.  The  Barabra  who  had  bought  Abou-Sin 
was  also  on  hand,  to  ratify  the  bargain,  and  I  was  thus  saved 
from  the  necessity  of  sending  the  animals  to  the  markets  of 
Assouan.  I  must  do  both  the  men  the  justice  to  say  that  they 
afterwards  made  every  exertion  to  cheat  me,  in  the  way  of 
counting  money  and  offering  bad  pieces,  and  at  last  gave  a 
large  pile  of  copper  coin,  which,  when  it  was  counted,  lacked 
two  piastres  of  the  right  amount.  When  all  was  finished,  1 
delivered  Abou-Sin  into  the  hands  of  his  rascally  new  master, 
with  a  sorrowful  heart,  for  the  old  fellow  and  I  were  good 
friends.  Had  he  known  we  were  to  be  separated,  I  am  sure 
those  large  black  eyes  of  his  would  have  dropped  a  few  tears, 
and  that  capacious  throat  gurgled  out  a  sound  of  lamentation. 
Aehmet  threw  his  arms  around  the  beast's  big  head  and  kissed 
him  tenderly.  I  was  about  to  do  the  same  thing,  when  T 
remembered  that  the  never-sweating  skin  of  a  dromedary 
exhales  not  the  freshest  of  odors,  and  preferred  caressing  him 
with  ray  hand  rather  than  my  lips.  So  farewell  to  Abou-Sin, 
and  may  he  never  want  dourra  and  bean-vines,  nor  complain 
under  too  heavy  loads  :  and  should  he  die  soon  (for  he  is 
waxing  in  years),  may  some  son  of  his  strong  loins  be  there  to 
carry  me,  when  next  I  visit  Central  Africa ! 

My  arrival  at  Wsdi  Haifa  terminated  the  journey  of  thirty- 
four  days  from  Khartoum.  In  that  time  my  little  caravan 
Lad  travelled  between  eight  and  nine  hundred  miles,  and  at 
least  half  of  it  as  rough  travelling  as  can  be  found  in  Africa, 
Now  we  were  beyond  danger  and  done  with  fatigue,  and  coulJ 


THANKSGIVING    AND    PARTI1CO.  485 

look  forward  to  seeing  Cairo  in  another  month.  Not  until  we 
were  all  seated  in  the  ferry-boat,  crossing  from  the  opposite 
bank,  did  I  fairly  realize  that  our  severe  journey  was  over 
The  camels  were  left  behind,  the  baggage  piled  up  on  board, 
and  as  we  were  rowed  slowly  across  the  river,  it  suddenly 
flashed  through  my  mind  that  the  same  gentle  motion  of  oars 
and  waves  was  thenceforth  to  rock  me  all  the  way  to  Cairo. 
I  drew  a  long  breath,  and  fervently  ejaculated  :  "  el  hamdu 
lillah ! "  to  which  the  others,  as  in  duty  bound,  responded. 
Achmet,  who  usually  postponed  his  prayers  until  he  reached 
home,  recited  a  chapter  from  the  Koran,  and  Ali,  who  never 
prayed,  broke  into  sailor-songs  by  starts,  and  laughed  continu- 
ally, from  inward  delight. 

After  my  tent  was  pitched  on  the  beach,  I  called  my  camel- 
men,  Ali  and  Mohammed,  who  had  crossed  with  me,  and  gave 
them  each  the  forty  piastres  still  due,  with  a  Maria  Theresa 
dollar — abou-zerdr,  or  the  Father  of  Buttons,  as  this  coin  is 
called  in  Central  Africa,  from  the  button  which  clasps  the 
drapery  on  the  Empress's  shoulder — as  backsheesh.  The  men 
were  delighted,  and  kissed  my  hand,  in  token  of  gratitude.  I 
gave  them  also  the  money  for  the  shekh,  and  took  leave  of 
them  with  the  exclamation  :  "  May  God  grant  you  a  prosper- 
ous return  to  your  country  !"  They  replied,  warmly :  "May 
God  prolong  your  days,  0  Effendi  1 "  and  as  they  moved  away, 
I  overheard  old  Mohammed  again  declare  to  Achmet :  "  Wal- 
lah, but  thin  is  a-  good  Frank !  He  certainly  has  Islam  \u  his 
heart  1" 


486  JOURNEY    TO    CKNTUAL 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

THE      BOCK      TEMPLES     OF      AKOU-8IMBEL 

Wad  Haifa— A  Boat  for  Assouan — We  Embark  on  the  Nile  Again — /in  Eiryitiar 
Dream — The  Temples  of  Abou-Simbel— The  Smaller  Temple — Th-i  Colossi  <>i 
Bemeses  II. — Vulgarity  of  Travellers — Entering  the  Great  Temple — My  Impiee- 
sions — Character  of  Abon-Simbel — The  Smaller  Chambers — The  Races  of  Men— 
Bemeses  and  the  Captive  Kings — Departure. 

WADI  HALFA  is  an  ordinary  Arab  village,  and  noted  only  for 
being  the  head  of  navigation  on  the  Nubian  Nile.  There 
were  six  or  seven  boats  in  port,  some  of  them  loaded  with  gum 
and  ready  to  start  for  Assouan.  They  were  all  nekkers,  or 
trading  boats,  built  of  heavy  wood,  and  not  to  be  moved  down 
stream  against  a  strong  head-wind.  ,  I  therefore  engaged  the 
ferry-boat  in  which  I  had  crossed — a  light,  open  boat,  manned 
by  two  Nubian  boys.  The  rais  made  a  frame  of  sticks  near 
the  stern,  and  covered  it  with  palm-mats,  to  serve  as  a  cabin. 
The  open  hold  was  turned  into  a  kitchen,  and  taken  possession 
of  by  my  two  men.  There  was  barely  room  enough  for  all  of 
us  and  our  baggage,  and  a  fat  sheep  I  bought,  as  provision  for 
the  voyage,  but  as  I  proposed  being  gloriously  lazy,  to  make 
op  for  the  foregone  toils,  I  needed  no  more. 


VOYAGE    DOWN    THE    NJLK.  481 

The  morning  after  my  arrival  at  Wadi  Haifa  all  was 
ready.  A  few  children  came  down  to  greet  me  with  the  hate- 
ful word  "  backsheesh,"  which  I  had  not  heard  for  thre« 
mouths  and  hoped  never  to  hear  again ;  but  a  few  Arabic  ex- 
clamations soon  put  them  to  flight.  We  shoved  away  from  th« 
beach,  followed  by  the  cries  of  a  dozen  lazy  sailors,  who  also 
wautod  backsheesh  for  saying  "sa/aam"  at  parting.  1  stretch- 
ed myself  out  on  my  bed,  on  deck,  and  lay  looking  on  the 
receding  shore,  where  my  camel-men  and  camels  (Abou-Sic 
still  among  them)  were  encamped.  Abou-Sin's  head  was  turn- 
ed towards  the  river,  as  if  looking  for  his  master,  for  the 
hapless  creature  certainly  thought  I  should  go  over  to  mount 
him  on  the  morrow.  Alas,  my  brave  old  dromedary  !  we  shall 
never  again  play  friendly  tricks  upon  each  other.  Rais  Ram- 
adan took  his  station  at  the  helm,  and  the  boys  plied  their 
oars  actively,  so  that  we  soon  lost  sight  of  Wadi  Haifa. .  All 
the  afternoon  we  glided  slowly  down  the  stream  between  rich 
palm-groves  and  grain-fields.  The  appearance  of  thrift  and 
fertility,  which  the  country  presented,  was  most  agreeable 
after  the  waste  fields  of  Dongola,  and  the  unproductive  rocks 
and  sands  of  the  intermediate  districts.  The  mountains  behind 
vere  lower  and  rounder  in  their  outlines,  and  the  landscapes 
softer  an  richer  than  any  I  had  seen  since  leaving  beautiful 
Dar  Shygheea.  15y  sunset  we  had  made  :  uch  good  progress, 
that  there  was  every  hope  of  reaching  Abou-Simbel  in  the 
morning. 

There  was  no  wind  during  the  night,  and  the  boys  worked 
bravely.  About  two  hours  after  midnight  I  was  awakened 
from  a  deep  sleep  by  the  shock  of  the  boat  striking  the  shore. 
I  opened  my  eyes  and  saw,  as  I  lay,  without  moving  my  head, 


488  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

a  huge  wall  of  rock  before  me,  against  which  six  enormom 
statues  leaned  as  they  looked  from  deep  niches  cut  in  its  front. 
Their  solemn  faces  were  touched  by  the  moon,  which  shone 
full  on  the  cliff,  and  only  their  feet  were  wrapped  in  shadow. 
The  lines  of  deep-cut  hieroglyphics  over  the  portal  of  this 
rocky  temple  were  also  filled  with  shadow  and  painted  legibly 
on  the  gray,  moonlit  rock.  Below  them  yawned  the  door — a 
square  of  complete  darkness.  A  little  to  the  left,  over  a  long 
drift  of  sand  that  sloped  from  the  summit  of  the  cliff  nearly  to 
the  water's  edge,  peered  the  mitred  head  of  a  statue  of  still 
more  colossal  proportions.  I  gazed  on  this  broad,  dim,  and 
wonderful  picture  for  a  moment,  so  awed  by  its  majesty  that  I 
did  not  ask  myself  where  nor  what  it  was.  This  is  some  grand 
Egyptian  dream,  was  my  first  thought,  and  I  closed  my  eyes 
for  a  few  seconds,  to  see  whether  it  would  vanish.  But  it 
stood  fast  and  silent  as  ever,  and  I  knew  it  to  be  Abou- 
Simbel.  My  servants  all  slept,  and  the  rais  and  boys  noise 
lessly  moored  the  boat  to  the  shore,  and  then  lay  down  and 
slept  also.  Still  I  lay,  and  the  great  statues  looked  solemnly 
down  upon  me,  and  the  moon  painted  their  kingly  nomens  and 
banners  with  yet  darker  distinctness  on  the  gray  rock.  The 
river  made  no  sound  below,  the  long  grass  stirred  not  a  blade 
at  the  foot  of  the  crags,  and  the  slopes  of  sand  were  white  and 
dumb  as  snow.  I  lay  in  too  deep  a  repose  for  thought,  and 
was  not  then  conscious  how  grateful  was  such  a  silence  in  Na- 
ture, while  the  moon  held  up  that  picture  before  me.  It  might 
have  been  two  minutes  or  twenty,  before  the  current  slowly 
swung  the  stern  of  the  boat  around,  and  the  picture  as  slowly 
ahifted  from  my  view,  leaving  instead  the  Southern  Cross  it 
its  shriii e  of  stars. 


THE    TEMPLES    OF    ABOtJ-SIMBEL.  488 

In  the  morning,  I  found  that  we  lay  at  the  foot  of  the 
smaller  temple.  I  quietly  waited  for  my  cup  of  coffee,  for  the 
morning  reality  was  infinitely  less  grand  than  my  vision  of  the 
night.  I  then  climbed  to  the  door  and  entered.  The  interior  is 
not  large  nor  imposing,  after  one  has  seen  the  temples  of  Egypt 
The  exterior,  however,  is  on  such  a  colossal  scale,  that,  not 
withstanding  the  want  of  proportion  in  the  different  statues, 
the  effect  is  very  striking.  The  largest  ones  are  about  thirty- 
five  feet  high,  and  not  identical,  as  are  those  of  the  great  tem- 
ple. One,  who  stands  with  one  leg  advanced,  while  he  holds 
a  sword  with  the  handle  pressed  against  his  breast,  is  executed 
with  much  more  spirit  than  is  usually  met  with  in  statues  of 
this  period.  The  sculptures  of  the  interior  are  interesting 
and  being  of  the  time  of  Remeaes  the  Great,  whose  history 
they  illustrate,  are  executed  with  much  skill  and  labor.  The 
head  of  the  goddess  Athor,  on  the  face  of  the  columns  in  the 
hall,  is  much  less  beautiful  than  that  of  the  same  goddess  at 
Dendera.  It  is,  in  fact,  almost  broad  and  distorted  enough  to 
represent  the  genius  Typhon. 

The  front  of  the  great  temple  is  not  parallel  to  that  of  the 
other,  nor  does  it  face  the  river,  which  here  flows  in  a  north 
east  course.  The  line  of  the  cliff  is  broken  between  the  two, 
so  that  the  figures  of  the  great  Remeses,  seated  on  each  side 
of  the  door,  look  to  the  east,  the  direction  of  the  line  of  the 
face  being  nearly  north.  Through  the  gap  in  front,  the  sands 
have  poured  down  from  the  Desert  behind,  almost  wholly  fill- 
ing up  the  space  between  the  two  cliffs  ;  and  though  since  the 
temple  was  first  opened,  in  1817,  it  has  been  cleared  nearly  to 
the  base  more  than  once,  the  rapid  accumulation  of  sand  has 
again  almost  closed  the  entrance  The  southern  colossus  U 
21* 


490  JOURKEV  ro  CENTRAL  AFRICA. 

only  buried  about  half  way  to  the  knee,  but  of  the  two  northern 
ones  there  is  little  else  to  be  seen  except  the  heads.  Obscured 
as  is  the  effect  of  this  grand  front,  it  is  still  without  parallel  in 
the  world  I  had  not  thought  it  possible  that  in  statues  of 
uuch  enormous  magnitude  there  could  be  such  singular  beautv 
of  expression.  The  face  of  Remeses,  the  same  in  each,  is  un 
doubtedly  a  portrait,  as  it  resembles  the  faces  of  the  statues  in 
the  interior  and  those  of  the  King  in  other  places.  Besides, 
there  is  an  individuality  in  some  of  the  features  which  is  too 
marked  to  represent  any  general  type  of  the  Egyptian  head 
The  fullness  of  the  drooping  eyelid,  which  yet  does  not  cover 
the  large,  oblong  Egyptian  eye;  the  nose,  at  first  slightly  in- 
clining to  the  aquiline,  but  curving  to  the  round,  broad  nos- 
trils ;  the  generous  breadth  of  the  calm  lips,  and  the  placid, 
serene  expression  of  the  face,  are  worthy  of  the  conqueror  of 
Africa  and  the  builder  of  Karnak  and  Medeenet  Abou. 

The  statue  next  the  door,  on  the  southern  side,  has  been 
shivered  to  the  throne  on  which  it  is  seated,  and  the  fragments 
are  not  to  be  seen,  except  a  few  which  lie  upon  the  knees. 
The  ridiculous  vanity  of  tourists  has  not  even  spared  these 
sublime  monuments,  and  they  are  covered  wherever  a  hand  can 
reach,  with  the  names  of  noble  and  ignoble  snobs.  The  enthu- 
siastic antiquaries  who  cleared  away  the  sands  have  recorded 
the  fact  in  modest  inscriptions,  near  the  door,  where  they  do 
not  offend  the  eye ;  and  one  readily  pardons  the  liberty  the 
writers  have  taken.  But  there  are  two  Germans  (whose  names 
I  will  not  mention,  since  it  would  help  give  them  the  very  noto- 
riety they  covet),  who  have  carved  their  names  in  letters  a  foot 
long,  on  the  thigh  of  one  of  the  statues,  and  afterwards  filled 
(hem  with  black  paint.  I  should  like  to  sec  them  subjected  to  i 


THE    INTERIOR    OF   THE    GREAT    TEMPLE.  491 

merciless  bastinado,  tv  the  same  part  of  their  own  bodies 
Certainly,  to  have  one  of  the  statues  seated  on  their  breasts  as 
&  nightmare,  every  night  of  their  lives,  would  not  be  too  much 
punishment  for  such  a  desecration. 

The  great  doorway  of  the  temple  is  so  choked  up  with  sand 
that  I  was  obliged  to  creep  in  on  my  knees.  The  sun  by  thi? 
time  had  risen  exactly  to  the  only  point  where  it  can  illumine 
the  interior,  and  the  rays,  taking  a  more  yellow  hue  from  the 
rock  and  sand  on  which  they  fell,  shone  down  the  long  drift 
between  the  double  row  of  colossal  statues,  and  lighted  up  the 
entrance  to  the  second  hall  of  the  temple.  I  sat  down  in  the 
sand,  awed  and  half  frightened  by  the  singular  appearance  of 
the  place.  The  sunshine,  falling  obliquely  on  the  sands, 
st/uck  a  dim  reflection  against  the  sculptured  roof,  and  even 
lighted  up  the  farthest  recesses  of  the  grand  hall  sufficiently  to 
show  its  imposing  dimensions.  Eight  square  pillars — four  on 
either  side  of  the  central  aisle — seem  to  uphold  the  roof,  and 
en  their  inner  sides,  facing  each  other,  are  eight  statues  of  the 
King.  The  features  of  all  are  preserved,  and  have  something 
of  the  grace  and  serenity,  though  not  the  majesty  of  the  great 
statues  outside.  They  look  into  each  other's  eyes,  with  an 
eternal  question  on  their  fixed  countenances,  but  none  can  give 
answer.  There  was  something  so  stern  and  strange  in  these 
eight  faces,  that  I  felt  a  shudder  of  fear  creep  3ver  me.  The 
strong  arms  are  all  crossed  on  their  breasts,  and  the  handi 
hold  various  sacred  and  regal  symbols,  conspicuous  among 
which  is  something  resembling  a  flail,  which  one  sees  often  in 
Egyptian  sculpture.  I  thought  of  a  marvellous  story  I  once 
read,  in  which  a  genie,  armed  with  a  brazen  flail,  stands  at  the 
entrance  of  an  enchanted  castle,  crushing  with  the  stroke  of 


492  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

his  terrible  weapon  all  who  come  to  seek  the  treasure  within 
For  a  moment  the  childish  faith  in  the  supernatural  was  a. 
strong  as  ever,  and  I  looked  at  the  gloomy  entrance  beyond, 
wishing  to  enter,  but  fearing  the  stony  flails  of  the  terrible 
Remesi  on  either  hand.  The  faces  were  once  partially  colored, 
and  the  black  eyeball,  still  remaining  on  the  blank  eye  of  stone, 
gives  them  an  expression  of  stupor,  of  death-in-life,  which 
accounted  to  me  for  the  nervous  shock  I  experienced  on  enter 

tog- 
There  is  nothing  in  Egypt  which  can  be  likened  to  the 
great  temple  of  Abou-Simbel.  Karnak  is  grander,  but  its 
grandeur  is  human.  This  belongs  rather  to  the  superhuman 
fancies  of  the  East — the  halls  of  the  Afrites — or  to  the  realm 
of  the  dethroned  Titans,  of  early  Greek  mythology.  This  im- 
pression is  not  diminished,  on  passing  the  second  hall  and 
corridor,  and  entering  the  adytum,  or  sacred  chamber  of  the 
temple.  There  the  granite  altar  yet  stands  in  the  centre, 
before  the  undestroyed  figures  of  the  gods,  who,  seated  side  by 
side,  calmly  await  the  offerings  of  their  worshippers.  The 
peculiar  individuality  of  each  deity  is  strikingly  shown  in  these 
large  statues,  and  their  attitude  is  much  less  constrained  than 
in  the  sitting  statues  in  the  tombs  of  Thebes.  These  look  as 
if  they  could  rise,  if  they  would.  The  walls  are  covered  with 
sculptures  of  them  and  of  the  contemplar  deities,  in  the  grand, 
bold  style  of  the  age  of  Remeses.  Some  visitors  had  left  a 
supply  of  dry  palm  branches  near  the  entrance,  and  of  these  I 
made  torches,  which  blazed  and  crackled  fiercely,  flaring  with  a 
rich  red  light  on  the  sculptured  and  painted  walls.  There 
was  sufficient  to  enable  me  to  examine  all  the  smaller  chambers, 
»f  which  there  are  eight  or  nine  cut  laterally  into  the  rook, 


THE    KACKS    OF    MKN.  493 

irithout  any  attempt  at  symmetry  >f  foim,  or  regularity  of 
arrangement.  Several  of  them  have  seats  running  around 
lihree  sides,  exactly  like  the  divans  in  modern  Egyptian  houses. 
They  were  probably  designed  for  the  apartments  of  the  prieft* 
or  servants  connected  with  the  temple. 

The  sculptures  on  the  walls  of  the  grand  hall  are,  after 
those  of  Medeenet  Abou,  and  on  the  exterior  wall  of  Karnak 
the  most  interesting  I  have  seen  in  Egypt.  On  the  end  wall 
on  either  side  of  the  entrance,  is  a  colossal  bas-relief,  repre 
senting  Remeses  slaying  a  group  of  captive  kings,  whom  he 
holds  by  the  hair  of  their  heads.  There  are  ten  or  twelve  in 
each  group,  and  the  features,  though  they  are  not  colored, 
exhibit  the  same  distinction  of  race  as  I  had  previously  remark 
ed  in  Belzoni's  tomb,  at  Thebes.  There  is  the  Negro,  the 
Persian,  the  Jew,  and  one  other  form  of  countenance  which  I 
could  not  make  out — all  imploring  with  uplifted  hands  the 
mercy  of  the  conqueror.  On  the  southern  wall,  the  distinction 
between  the  Negro  and  the  Egyptian  is  made  still  more  obvi- 
ous by  the  coloring  of  the  figures.  In  fact,  I  see  no  reason 
whatever  to  doubt  that  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  dif- 
ferent races  of  men  were  as  strongly  marked  in  the  days  of 
Remeses  as  at  present.  This  is  an  interesting  fact  in  discus- 
sing the  question  of  the  unity  of  origin  of  the  race.  Admitting 
the  different  races  of  men  to  have  had  originally  one  origin 
the  date  of  the  first  appearance  of  Man  on  the  earth,  must  have 
been  nearer  fifty  thousand  than  five  thousand  years  ago.  If 
climate,  customs,  and  the  like  have  been  the  only  agents  in 
producing  that  variety  of  race,  which  we  find  so  strongly  mark- 
ed nearly  four  thousand  years  ago,  surely  those  agents  must 
aave  been  at  work  for  a  vastly  longer  period  than  that  usually 


494  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRAL    1FRICA. 

Accepted  as  the  age  of  Man.  We  are  older  than  we  know ;  but 
our  beginning,  like  our  end,  is  darkness  and  mystery. 

The  sculptures  on  the  side  walls  of  the  temple  represent 
the  wars  of  Remeses,  who,  as  at  Medeenet  Abou,  stands  in  a 
chariot  which  two  horses  at  full  speed  whirl  into  the  ranks  of 
the  enemy.  The  king  discharges  his  arrows  against  them,  and 
directly  in  front  of  him  a  charioteer,  mortally  wounded,  is 
burled  from  his  overthrown  chariot.  The  groups  are  chiselled 
with  great  spirit  and  boldness ;  the  figures  of  the  king  and  his 
horses  are  full  of  life.  Towering  over  all,  as  well  by  his  supe- 
rior proportions  as  by  the  majesty  and  courage  of  his  attitude, 
Remeses  stands  erect  and  motionless  amid  the  shock  and  jar 
and  riot  of  battle.  There  is  no  exultation  in  his  face ;  only 
the  inflexible  calmness  of  Destiny. 

I  spent  some  time  contemplating  these  grand  and  remark- 
able memorials  of  the  greatest  age  of  Egypt,  and  left  with  my 
feeling  for  Egyptian  art  even  stronger  than  before.  I  watched 
the  giant  figures  of  the  portico,  as  the  swift  current  carried 
jay  boat  down  stream,  reluctant  to  lose  sight  of  their  majestic 
features.  But  the  yellow  of  the  cliff  turned  to  purple,  and  at 
last  other  crags  passed  bef >re  it. 


LOSE    MY    8UN8HINJL  4!'.') 


CHAPTER     XXXVIII 


RETURN      TO 

1  Loee  my  Sunshine,  and  Regain  it  —  Nubian  Scenery  —  Derr  —  The  Temple  of  Amadi. 
—  Mysterious  Rapplngs—  Familiar  Scenes  —  Halt  at  Korosko—  Escape  from  Ship- 
wreck —  The  Temple  of  Sebooa—  Cliaslng  other  Boats—  Temple  of  DJerf  Hossayn— 
A  Backsheesh  Experiment—  Kslabshee—  Temple  of  Dabfid  —  We  reach  the  Egyp- 
tian Frontier. 

THE  distressing  coldness  of  the  temperature  the  night  before 
reaching  Wadi  Haifa,  affected  me  more  painfully  than  all  the 
roastings  I  had  endured  in  Soudan.  My  nose  after  losing  six 
coats  of  skin,  became  so  hard  and  coppery,  that  like  Anthony 
Tan  Corlear's,  the  reflected  rays  from  it  might  have  pierced 
even  the  tough  skin  of  a  crocodile.  My  frame  was  so  steeped 
in  heat,  that  had  our  fuel  fallen  short,  I  might  have  "  drawn  " 
my  tea,  by  hugging  the  kettle  in  my  arms.  I  had  been  so 
bathed  and  rolled  in  light,  the  sun  had  so  constantly,  with 
each  succeeding  day,  showered  upon  me  his  burning  baptism, 
that  I  came  to  regard  myself  as  one  of  his  special  representa- 
tives, and  to  fancy  that,  wherever  I  went,  there  was  a  sort  of 
nimbus  or  radiation  around  me.  But  those  few  drops  of  rain, 
among  the  stony  mountains  of  the  Batn  El-Hadjar,  quenched 
it  once  the  glow  of  iny  outer  surface,  and  the  cold  winds  which 


496  JOCRNBV   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

followed,  never  ceased  blowing  till  they  extinguished  even  tL« 
central  fires.  I  was  like  an  incipient  comet,  snuffed  out  of 
existence  and  made  satellite  to  some  frozen  planet.  My  framr 
was  racked  with  pains,  which  turned  into  misery  the  refresh 
ing  indolence  of  the  Nile.  I  had  no  medicines,  but  put 
my  philosophy  into  practice  :  the  climate  of  Nubia,  I  said, 
has  given  me  this  infliction,  therefore  the  country  must  supply 
the  remedy.  So  1  sent  the  rais  ashore  in  search  of  it.  He 
came  back  with  a  cup  of  oil  which  a  shining  daughter  of  the 
land  was  about  bestowing  upon  her  crispy  tresses,  and  I  drauk 
it  with  a  heroic  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  my  theory.  I  was  nut 
"disappointed,  and  on  the  third  day  sat  once  more  in  the  sun, 
in  the  bow  of  my  boat,  trying  to  regain  the  effluence  I  had 
lost. 

The  scenery  of  the  Nile  below  Abou-Simbel  is  very  beauti- 
ful. The  mountains  recede  again  from  the  bank,  and  ehow 
themselves  occasionally  in  picturesque  peaks.  The  shores  are 
low  and  rich  and  the  groves  of  date-trees  most  luxuriant.  The 
weather  was  delightfully  calm  and  warm,  and  the  Nile,  though 
swift,  ran  smooth  and  shining  as  the  oil  of  his  own  castor 
bean-fields.  During  the  sweet,  quiet  hour  before  and  after 
sunset,  we  floated  down  through  the  lovely  region  about  Bos- 
tan  and  Teshka.  Three  tall  peaks  of  dark-brown  rock  rose 
inland,  beyond  the  groves  of  the  beautiful  Ibreemee  palm, 
whose  leaves,  longer  and  more  slender  than  those  of  the  Egyp- 
tian date-tree,  are  gracefully  parted  at  the  sides — half  of  them 
shooting  upward  in  a  plumy  tuft,  while  the  other  half  droop 
around  the  tall  shaft  of  the  tree.  The  boys  worked  during  the 
second  night  with  unabated  force.  I  awoke  as  the  moon  was 
rising  through  black  clouds,  and  found  the  lofty  crags  of 


THE    TEMPLE    OF    AMADA.  497 

Ibreem  overhanging  us.  We  swept  silently  under  the  base 
of  the  heights,  which  in  the  indistinct  light,  appeared  to  rise 
four  or  five  hundred  feet  above  us.  By  sunrise,  the  date- 
groves  of  Derr,  the  capital  of  the  Nuba  country,  were  in  sight, 
and  we  were  soon  moored  beside  the  beach  in  front  of  the 
town  Derr  stretches  for  some  distance  along  the  shore,  and 
presents  an  agreeable  front  to  the  river.  A  merchant,  from  a 
boat  near  ours,  brought  me  two  small  loaves  of  delicious 
Egyptian  bread.  He  had  been  in  Soudan,  and  knew  how  such 
bread  would  relish,  after  the  black  manufacture  of  that 
country. 

An  hour  afterwards  my  boat  ran  to  the  eastern  bank,  to 
allow  me  to  visit  the  little  temple  of  Amada.  This  temple 
stands  on  a  slight  rise  in  the  sands,  which  surround  and  en- 
tirely overwhelm  it.  It  consists  only  of  a  low  portico,  sup~ 
ported  by  eight  pillars,  a  narrow  corridor  and  the  usual  three 
chambers — all  of  very  small  dimensions.  The  sculptures  on 
the  walls  are  remarkable  for  the  excellent  preservation  of  their 
colors.  The  early  Christians,  who  used  this  temple  for  their 
worship,  broke  holes  in  the  roof,  which  admit  sufficient  light 
for  the  examination  of  the  interior.  Without  knowing  any 
thing  of  the  hieroglyphic  inscriptions  on  the  temple,  I  should 
judge  that  it  was  erected  by  some  private  person  or  persons. 
The  figures  making  the  offerings  have  not  the  usual  symbols 
jf  royalty,  and  the  objects  they  present  consist  principally  of 
the  fruits  of  the  earth,  which  are  heaped  upon  a  table  placed 
before  the  divinity.  The  coloring  of  the  fruit  is  quite  rich 
»nd  glowing,  and  there  are  other  objects  which  appear  to  bo 
cakes  or  pastry.  While  I  was  examining  the  central  chamber 
I  heard  a  sound  as  of  some  one  sharply  striking  one  of  the  ont 


498  JOURNEY   TO    CKNTRAL    AFRICA. 

side  pillars  with  &  stick.  It  was  repeated  three  times  with  an 
interval  between,  and  was  so  clear  and  distinct  that  I  imagined 
it  to  be  Achmet,  following  me.  I  called,  but  on  receiving  no 
answer,  went  out,  and  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  no  per 
son  there  or  within  sight.  The  temple  stands  at  a  considera- 
ble distance  from  any  dwelling,  and  there  is  no  place  in  the 
amooth  sands  on  all  sides  of  it  where  a  man  couH  hide. 
When  I  mentioned  this  circumstance,  on  returning  to  the 
boat,  Achmet  and  the  rai's  immediately  declared  it  to  be  the 
work  of  a  djin,  or  afrite,  who  frequently  are  heard  among  the 
ruins,  and  were  greatly  shocked  when  I  refused  to  accept  this 
explanation.  I  record  the  circumstance  to  show  that  even  in 
the  heart  of  Nubia  there  are  mysterious  rappings. 

Beyond  Derr  I  entered  the  mountain  region  of  granite, 
sandstone  and  porphyry,  which  extends  all  the  way  to  As- 
souan. As  I  approached  Korosko,  which  is  only  about  twelve 
miles  further,  the  south-wind  increased  till  it  became  a  genuine 
khamseen,  almost  blotting  out  the  landscape  with  the  clouds 
of  sand  which  it  whirled  from  the  recesses  of  the  Biban.  We 
were  obliged  to  creep  along  under  the  bank  till  we  reached 
Korosko,  where  we  ran  up  to  the  same  old  landing-place  at 
which  I  had  stopped  in  December.  The  bank  was  eight  feet 
higher  than  then,  the  river  having  fallen  that  much  in  the 
mean  time.  There  was  the  same  house,  open  on  the  river- 
side, the  same  old  Turk  sitting  within,  the  dark  sycamores 
shading  the  bank,  the  dusty  terrace  with  the  familiar  palme 
tossing  their  leaves  against  the  wind,  the  water-mill,  the  whito 
minaret  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and,  lastly,  the  boM, 
peaked  ridge  of  Djebel  Korosko  behind.  There  was  the  very 
spot  wnere  my  tent  had  stood,  and  where  I  first  mounted  a 


OLD  ACQUAINTANCES  AT  KOUCSKO.  499 

dromedary  for  the  long  inarch  through  the  Nubian  Desert 
There  was  also  the  corner  by  which  I  turned  into  the  moun 
ain-pass,  and  took  leave  of  the  Nile.  I  recognized  all  these 
points  with  a  grateful  feeling  that  my  long  wandering  in  Cen 
tral  Africa  was  over,  without  a  single  untoward  incident  to 
mar  tny  recollection  of  it.  I  had  my  pipe  and  carpet  brought 
under  the  shade  jf  the  sycamore,  while  Achmet  went  up  to 
the  Governor's  house,  with  the  rais  and  one  of  the  boys.  Be- 
fore long,  the  latter  appeared  with  his  shirt  full  of  pigeons  (for 
I  had  not  forgotten  the  delicious  roast  pigeons  we  took  from 
Korosko  into  the  Desert),  then  the  rais  with  my  sack  of  char 
coal,  the  Governor  having  only  used  about  one-third  of  it  dur- 
ing my  absence,  and  finally  the  Governor  himself.  Moussa 
Effendi  shook  me  cordially  by  the  hand  and  welcomed  me 
many  times,  thanking  God  that  I  had  returned  iu  safety.  We 
sat  on  my  carpet,  talked  for  an  hour  about  my  journey,  took 
coffee,  and  I  then  left  the  worthy  man  and  his  wretched  vil- 
lage, more  delighted  at  having  seen  them  again  than  I  can 
vrell  express. 

The  same  evening,  the  wind  veered  to  the  north-west,  near- 
ly at  right-angles  to  our  course,  and  just  at  dusk,  as  the  rain 
and  AH  were  rowing  vigorously  to  keep  the  boat  on  the 
western  side  of  the  river  (the  other  being  full  of  dangerous 
reefs),  the  rope  which  held  the  long  oar  in  its  place  broke,  and 
Ali  tumbled  heels  over  head  into  the  wooden  cooking  bowl  of 
the  rais  The  wind  carried  us  rapidly  towards  the  opposite 
shore,  and  while  Ali  and  Lalee  were  trying  to  fix  the  oar  ir. 
its  place,  we  heard  the  water  roaring  over  the  rocks.  "  (.' 
Prophet!"  "0  Apostle!"  "Prophet  of  God,  help  us!' 
were  the  exclamations  of  the  rais,  but  little  black  *Med  Roc 


500  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

nice,  who  sat  at  the  helm,  like  Charlemagne  on  a  similar  occa 
sion,  said  nothing.  He  looked  keenly  through  the  gloom  foi 
the  reef,  and  at  last  discerned  it  in  time  for  the  boat  to  be 
sculled  around  with  the  remaining  oar,  and  brought  to  land 
ju3t  above  the  dangerous  point.  A  shipwreck  in  the  Nile  is  a 
mere  serious  matter  than  one  would  imagine,  who  has  never 
seen  the  river  during  a  strong  wind.  Its  waves  run  as  rough- 
ly and  roar  as  loudly  as  those  of  a  small  sea. 

We  reached  Sebooa  during  the  night,  and  I  walked  up  to 
the  temple  as  soon  as  I  rose.  Early  as  it  was,  several  Araba 
descried  me  from  a  distance,  and  followed.  The  temple,  which 
is  small  and  uninteresting,  is  almost  buried  under  drifts  from 
the  Desert,  which  completely  fill  its  interior  chambers.  Only 
the  portico  and  court,  with  three  pillars  on  each  side,  to  which 
colossal  caryatides  are  attached,  remain  visible.  Before  the 
pylon  there  is  an  avenue  of  lion-headed  sphinxes,  six  of  which, 
and  a  colossal  elatue  of  sandstone,  raise  their  heads  above  the 
sand.  I  waR  followed  to  the  vessel  by  the  men,  who  impor- 
tuned me  for  backsheesh.  When  I  demanded  what  reason 
they  had  for  expecting  it,  they  answered  that  all  strangers 
who  go  there  give  it  to  them.  This  was  reason  enough  for 
them  ;  as  they  knew  not  why  it  was  given,  so  they  knew  not 
why  it  should  be  refused.  The  crowd  of  travellers  during  the 
winter  had  completely  spoiled  the  Barabras.  I  said  to  the 
men  :  "  You  have  done  nothing  for  me ;  you  are  beggars," — 
but  instead  of  feeling  the  term  a  reproach,  they  answered . 
"  You  are  right — we  are  beggars."  With  such  people  one  can 
do  nothing. 

For  the  next  two  days  we  lagged  along,  against  a  head- 
wind, My  two  boys  did  the  work  of  two  men,  and  I  stimu- 


ITT    JLJLO DJERF    HJSSATN.  501 

lated  them  witb  presents  of  mutton  and  tobacco.  Three  Eng- 
lish boats  (the  ast  of  the  season),  left  Wadi-Halfa  three  days 
before  me,  and  by  inquiring  at  the  village,  I  found  I  was  fast 
gaining  on  them.  I  began  to  feel  some  curiosity  concerning 
the  world's  doings  during  the  winter,  and  as  these  Englishmen 
were  at  least  three  months  in  advance  of  the  point  where  I 
left  off,  they  became  important  objects  to  me,  and  the  chase  of 
them  grew  exciting.  I  prepared  for  my  encounter  with  them 
and  other  belated  travellers  on  the  Nile,  by  making  an  Ameri 
can  flag  out  of  some  stuff  which  I  had  bought  for  that  purpose 
in  Dongola.  The  blue  and  white  were  English  muslin,  and 
the  red  the  woollen  fabric  of  Barbary,  but  they  harmonized 
well,  and  my  flag,  though  I  say  it,  was  one  of  the  handsomest 
on  the  river. 

The  temple  of  Djerf  Hossayn  is  excavated  in  the  rock, 
near  the  summit  of  a  hill  behind  the  village.  A  rough  path, 
over  heaps  of  stones,  which  abound  with  fragments  of  pottery, 
denoting  the  existence  of  an  ancient  town,  leads  up  to  it. 
When  I  reached  the  platform  in  front  of  the  entrance  I  had  a 
convoy  of  more  than  a  dozen  persons,  mostly  stout,  able-bodied 
men.  I  determined  to  try  an  experiment,  and  so  told  them  at 
the  start  to  go  back,  for  they  would  get  nothing;  but  they 
were  not  to  be  shaken  off.  I  avoided  with  the  greatest  care 
and  patience  all  their  endeavors  to  place  me  under  obligations 
to  them ;  for  these  cunning  Barabras  are  most  assiduous  in 
their  efforts  to  render  some  slight  service.  If  it  is  only  kicking 
a  atone  out  of  your  path,  it  constitutes  a  claim  for  backsheesh, 
»nd  they  represent  their  case  in  such  a  way  that  it  would  be 
the  most  glaring  ingratitude  on  your  part  not  to  give  it. 

On  entering  the  temple,  the  vast  square  pillars  of  the  hall, 


502  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

witn  the  colossal  figures  attached  to  them,  produce  a  striking 
impression.  The  effect  of  these  pillars,  which  fill  nearly  half 
the  space  of  the  hall  itself,  is  to  increase  its  apparent  dimen- 
sions, so  that  the  temple,  at  the  first  glance,  seems  to  be  on  a 
grander  scale  than  is  really  the  case.  I  had  some  curiosity 
regarding  this  place,  from  the  enthusiastic  description  of  War- 
burton,  and  the  disparaging  remarks  of  Wilkinson.  After  see- 
ing it,  I  find  them  both  correct,  in  a  great  measure.  The  co- 
lossal statues  of  the  grand  hall  are  truly,  as  the  latter  ob- 
serves, clumsy  and  badly  executed,  and  the  sculptures  on  the 
walls  are  unworthy  the  age  of  Remeses ;  but  it  is  also  true 
that  their  size,  and  the  bulk  of  the  six  pillars,  which  are  lofty 
enough  to  be  symmetrical,  would  have  a  fine  effect  when  seen 
at  night,  by  the  light  of  torches,  as  Warburton  saw  them.  A! 
the  chambers  have  suffered  from  smoke  and  bats,  and  th 
bigotry  of  the  old  Christians.  The  walls  are  so  black  that  i 
is  difficult  to  trace  out  the  figures  upon  them.  This,  however 
rather  heightens  the  impression  of  a  grand,  though  uncoutL 
and  barbarous  art,  which  the  temple  suggests.  I  made  but  a 
brief  visit,  and  marched  down  the  hill  with  the  population  of 
Djerf  Hossayn  in  my  train.  The  boat  had  gone  ahead,  as  the 
only  approach  to  the  shore  was  a  mile  or  two  beyond,  but  they 
insisted  on  following  me.  I  ordered  them  to  leave,  fearing  lest 
the  very  fact  of  their  walking  so  far  in  the  hot  sun  would  in- 
duce me  to  break  my  resolution.  It  would  have  been,  indeed, 
a  satisfaction  to  give  ten  piastres  and  be  freed  from  them, 
and  I  took  no  little  credit  to  myself  for  persisting  in  refusing 
them.  They  all  dropped  off  at  last,  except  two,  who  came 
almost  to  the  spot  where  the  boat  was  moored,  and  only  turned 
back  because  I  was  in  advavce  and  ordered  the  rais  to  move 


KAL&BASHEE.  503 

on  as  soon  as  I  got  on  board.  I  should  like  to  know  then 
opinion  of  me.  I  have  no  djubt  the  people  considered  me  the 
most  eccentric  Frank  who  ever  came  among  them. 

The  next  morning  we  reached  Kalabshee,  and  before  sun 
rise  I  was  standing  on  the  long  stone  platform  before  the  tem- 
ple. The  pylon  of  hewn  sandstone  rises  grandly  above  the 
spacious  portal,  and  from  the  exterior  the  building  has  a  most 
imposing  air.  Its  interior  once,  probably,  did  not  diminish 
the  impression  thus  given ;  but  at  present  it  is  such  an  utter 
mass  of  ruin  that  the  finest  details  are  entirely  lost.  The 
temple  is  so  covered  with  the  enormous  fragments  of  the  roof 
and  walls  that  it  is  a  work  of  some  difficulty  to  examine  it ; 
but  it  does  not  repay  any  laborious  inspection.  The  outer 
wall  which  surrounds  it  has  also  been  hurled  down,  and  the 
whole  place  is  a  complete  wreck  I  know  of  no  temple  which 
has  been  subjected  to  such  violence,  unless  it  be  that  of  Soleb 
in  Dar  El-Mahass. 

Below  the  temple  we  passed  the  Bab  (Gate)  El-Kalabshee. 
where  the  river  is  hemmed  in  between  enormous  boulders  of 
granite  and  porphyry.  The  morning  was  cold  and  dark,  and 
had  there  been  firs  instead  of  palms,  I  could  have  believed  my- 
self on  some  flood  among  the  hills  of  Norway.  I  urged  on  the 
boys,  as  I  wished  to  reach  Dabod  before  dark,  and  as  Ali,  whc 
was  anxious  to  get  back  to  Egypt,  took  a  hand  at  the  oar  oc- 
casionally, our  boat  touched  the  high  bank  below  the  temple 
just  after  sunset.  There  is  a  little  village  near  the  place,  and 
the  reapers  in  the  ripe  wheat-fields  behind  it  were  closing  theii 
day's  labor.  One  old  man,  who  had  no  doubt  been  a  servant 
in  Cairo,  greeted  me  with  "  buona  sera  !  "  Achmet  followed, 
to  keep  off  the  candidates  for  backsheesh  and  I  stood  alone  in 


504  JOURNEY   TO    CENTRA1    AFRICA. 

the  portico  of  the  temple,  just  as  the  evening  scar  began  k 
twinkle  in  the  fading  amber  and  rose.  Like  Kalabshee,  the 
temple  is  of  the  times  of  the  Caesars,  and  unfinished.  Tbcre 
are  three  chambers,  the  interior  walls  of  which  are  covered 
with  sculptures,  but  little  else  is  represented  than  the  offerings 
to  the  gods.  Indeed,  none  of  the  sculptures  in  the  temples  of 
the  Caesars  have  the  historic  interest  of  those  of  the  Eighteenth 
Egyptian  dynasty.  The  object  of  the  later  architects  appear? 
to  have  been  merely  to  cover  the  walls,  and  consequently  we 
find  an  endless  repetition  of  the  same  subjects.  The  novice  in 
Egyptian  art  might  at  first  I  e  deceived  by  the  fresher  appear- 
ance of  the  figures,  their  profusion  and  the  neatness  of  their 
chiselling;  but  a  little  experience  will  satisfy  him  how  truly 
superior  were  the  ancient  workmen,  both  in  the  design  and 
execution  of  their  historic  sculptures.  In  Dabod,  I  saw  the 
last  of  the  Nubian  temples,  in  number  nearly  equal  to  those 
of  Egypt,  and  after  Thebes,  quite  equal  to  them  in  interest. 
No  one  who  has  not  been  beyond  Assouan,  can  presume  to  say 
that  he  has  a  thorough  idea  of  Egyptian  art.  And  the  Nile, 
the  glorious  river,  is  only  half  known  by  those  who  forsake 
him  at  Philse. 

After  dark,  we  floated  past  the  Shaymt-el-Wah,  a  powerful 
eddy  or  whirlpool  in  the  stream,  and  in  the  night  came  to  a 
small  village  within  hearing  of  the  Cataract.  Here  the  rais 
had  his  family,  and  stopped  to  see  them.  We  lay  there  quiet 
ly  the  rest  of  the  night,  but  with  the  first  glimpse  of  light  I 
was  stirring,  and  called  him  to  his  duty.  The  dawn  was  deep- 
ening into  a  clear  golden  whiteness  in  the  East,  but  a  few 
large  stars  were  sparkling  overhead,  as  we  approached  Philae. 
Its  long  colonnades  of  light  sandstone  glimmered  in  the 


AHRIVAL    AT    ASSOUAN.  505 

ihadows  of  the  palms,  between  the  dark  masses  of  the  moun 
tains  on  either  hand,  and  its  tall  pylons  rose  beyond,  distinct 
against  the  sky.  The  little  hamlets  on  the  shores  were  still  ir 
the  hush  of  sleep,  and  there  was  no  sound  to  disturb  the  im- 
pression of  that  fairy  picture.  The  pillars  of  the  airy  chapel 
of  Athor  are  perfect  in  their  lightness  and  grace,  when  seen 
thus  from  a  boat  coming  down  the  river,  with  the  palm-groves 
behind  them  and  the  island-quay  below.  We  glided  softly 
past  that  vision  of  silence  and  beauty,  took  the  rapid  between 
the  gates  of  granite,  and  swept  down  to  the  village  at  the  head 
of  the  Cataract.  The  sun  had  just  risen,  lighting  up  the  fleet 
of  trading  boats  at  anchor,  and  the  crowds  of  Arabs,  Egyptians 
and  Barabras  on  the  beach.  The  two  English  dahabiyehs  I 
had  been  chasing  were  rowed  out  for  the  descent  of  the  Cata- 
ract, as  I  jumped  aslnre  and  finished  my  travels  in  Nubia. 


506  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 


CHAPTEK    XXXIX. 

VOYAGE      DOWN      THE      KILE. 

&MOTAD— A  Boat  for  Cairo— English  Touriste— A  Head-wind— Ophthalmia— Esneb—i 
Mummied  Prii  cess— All  Effendl's  Stories— A  Donkey  A  frlte— Arrival  at  Ln*or- 
The  Egyptian  Autumn— A  Day  at  Thebes—  Songs  of  the  Sailors — All  leaves  me— 
Bide  to  Dendera—  Head-winds  again— Visit  to  Tahtah— The  House  of  Rufaa  Bey. 

I  REACHED  the  Egyptian  frontier  on  the  morning  of  the  six- 
teenth of  March,  having  been  forty  days  in  making  the  jour 
ney  from  Khartoum.  Immediately  upon  our  arrival,  I  took  a 
donkey  and  rode  around  the  Cataract  to  Assouan,  leaving  All 
to  take  care  of  the  baggage-camels.  I  went  directly  to  the 
beach,  where  a  crowd  of  vessels  were  moored,  in  expectation 
of  the  caravans  of  gum  from  the  South.  An  Egyptian  Bey, 
going  to  Khartoum  in  the  train  of  Rustum  Pasha,  had  arrived 
the  day  before  in  a  small  dahabiyeh,  and  the  captain  thereof 
immediately  offered  it  to  me  for  the  return  to  Cairo.  It  was 
a  neat  and  beautiful  little  vessel,  with  a  clean  cabin,  couch 
divan,  and  shady  portico  on  deck.  He  asked  twelve  hundred 
piastres ;  I  offered  him  nine  hundred ;  we  agreed  on  a  thou- 
sand, and  when  my  camels  arrived  there  was  a  new  refuge  pre- 
pared for  my  household  gods.  I  set  Achinet  to  work  at  get 


ENGLISH    TOr'KISTS. 


ting  the  necessary  supplies,  sent  the  rais  to  bake  bread  for  the 
voyage,  and  then  went  to  see  the  jolly,  flat-nosed  Governor 
He  received  nie  very  cordially,  and  had  a  great  deal  to  sa}  of 
the  unparalleled  herd  of  travellers  on  the  Nile  during  the 
winter.  Ninety-six  vessels  and  eleven  steamboats  had  reached 
tho  harbor  of  Assouan,  and  of  these  the  greater  number  were 
Americans.  "  Mashallah  !  your  countrymen  must  be  very 
rich,"  said  the  Governor. 

When  I  left  the  divan,  the  firing  of  guns  announced  the 
safe  arrival  of  the  English  boats  below  the  Cataract.  Very 
soon  I  saw  two  burnt-faced,  tarbooshed  individuals,  with  eye- 
glasses in  their  eyes,  strolling  up  the  beach.  For  once  I 
threw  off  the  reserve  which  a  traveller  usually  feels  towards 
every  one  speaking  his  own  language,  and  accosted  them. 
They  met  my  advances  half-way,  and  before  long  my  brain 
was  in  a  ferment  of  French  and  English  politics.  Europe  was 
still  quiet  then,  but  how  unlike  the  quiet  of  the  Orient  !  The 
Englishmen  had  plenty  of  news  for  me,  but  knew  nothing  of 
the  news  I  most  wanted  —  those  of  my  own  country.  Had  our 
positions  been  reversed,  the  result  would  have  been  different. 
They  left  at  sunset  for  the  return  to  Thebes,  but  I  was  detain- 
ed until  noon  the  next  day,  when  I  set  off  in  company  with 
the  boat  of  Signor  Drovetti,  of  Alexandria,  who  left  Khar- 
toum a  few  days  after  me.  I  had  six  men,  but  only  two  of 
them  were  good  oarsmen. 

In  the  morning,  when  I  awoke,  the  broken  pylon  of  Ombos 
tottered  directly  over  the  boat.  I  rushed  on  deck  in  time  to 
catch  another  sight  of  the  beautiful  double  portico,  looking 
down  from  the  drifted  sands.  The  wind  blew  very  strongly 
from  the  north,  but  in  the  afternoon  we  succeeded  in  reaching 


60£  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Djebel  Silsileli,  where  the  English  boats  were  moored.  Wt 
exchanged  pistol  salutes,  and  I  ran  up  to  the  bank  to  visit 
some  curious  sculptured  tablets  and  grottoes,  which  we  did  not 
gee  on  the  upward  voyage.  During  the  night  the  wind 
increased  to  such  an  extent  that  all  the  boats  were  obliged  to 
lay  to  The  morning  found  our  four  dahabiyehs  floating  slow- 
ly down  in  company,  crossing  from  side  to  side  transversely,  in 
order  to  make  a  little  headway.  After  three  or  four  hours, 
however,  the  wind  grew  so  strong  that  they  were  driven  up 
stream,  and  all  ran  to  the  lee  of  a  high  bank  for  shelter. 
There  we  lay  nearly  all  day.  The  Englishmen  went  ashore 
and  shot  quails,  but  I  lounged  on  my  divan,  unable  to  do  any 
thing,  for  the  change  from  the  dry,  hot  desert  air,  to  the  damp 
Nile  blasts,  brought  on  an  inflammation  of  the  eyes,  resembling 
ophthalmia.  I  was  unable  to  read  or  write,  and  had  no  reme- 
dies except  water,  which  I  tried  both  warm  and  cold,  with 
very  little  effect. 

Towards  evening  the  wind  fell ;  after  dark  we  passed  the 
pylon  of  Edfoo,  and  at  noon  the  next  day  reached  Esueh.  1 
went  at  once  to  the  temple,  so  beautiful  in  my  memory,  yet 
still  more  beautiful  when  I  saw  it  again.  The  boys  who 
admitted  me,  lifted  the  lids  of  the  large  cofllu  and  showed  the 
royal  mummies,  which  are  there  crumbling  to  pieces  from  the 
neglect  of  the  Egyptian  authorities,  who  dug  them  up  at 
Goorneh.  The  coffins  were  of  thick  plank  and  still  sound,  the 
wood  having  become  exceedingly  dry  and  light.  The  mum- 
mies were  all  more  or  less  mutilated,  but  the  heads  of  seme 
were  well  preserved.  In  form,  they  differ  considerably  from 
the  Arab  head  of  the  present  day,  showing  a  better  balance  of 
the  intellectual  and  moral  faculties.  On  one  of  them  the  hail 


iu  EFFENDI'H  STORIES.  509 

was  still  fresh  and  uncorrupted.  It  was  of  a  fino,  tilky  tex- 
ture and  a  bright  auburn  color.  The  individual  was  a  woman( 
with  a  very  symmetrical  head,  and  small,  regular  features. 
81ic  may  have  been  a  beauty  once,  but  nothing  could  be  mort 
hideous.  I  pulled  off  a  pmall  lock  of  hair,  and  took  it  with 
mo  as  a  curious  relic.  Esneh  appeared  much  more  beautiful 
to  me  than  on  my  upward  journey ;  posnibly,  by  contrast  with 
the  mud-built  houses  of  Soudan.  I  went  to  a  coffee- shop  and 
smoked  a  sheesheh,  while  the  muezzin  called  down  from  the 
mosque  in  front:  uGod  is  great;  there  is  no  God  but  God; 
Mohammed  is  the  Prophet  of  God." 

All  Effeudi,  the  agent  of  the  Moodir,  or  Governor,  came 
to  see  me  and  afterwards  went  on  board  my  vessel  As  tho 
wind  was  blowing  so  furiously  that  we  could  not  leave,  I  invit- 
ed him  to  dinner,  and  in  the  meantime  we  had  a  long  talk  on 
afrites  and  other  evil  spirits.  I  learned  many  curious  things 
concerning  Arabic  faith  in  such  matters.  The  belief  in  spirits 
is  universal,  although  an  intelligent  Arab  will  not  readily  con- 
fess the  fact  to  a  Frank,  unless  betrayed  into  it  by  a  simulated 
belief  on  the  part  of  the  latter.  AH  Effendi  informed  me  that 
the  spirit  of  a  man  who  is  killed  by  violence,  haunts  the  spot 
where  his  body  is  buri<;d,  until  the  number  of  years  has  elapsed, 
which  he  would  otherwise  have  lived.  He  stated,  with  the 
greatest  earnestness,  that  formerly,  in  passing  at  night  over 
the  plain  between  Euibabeh  and  the  Pyramids,  where  Napo- 
leon defeated  the  Mamelukes,  he  had  frequently  heard  a  con 
fusion  of  noises, — cries  of  pain,  and  agony,  and  wrath — but 
that  now  there  were  but  few  sounds  to  be  heard,  as  the  time  of 
service  of  the  ghosts  had  for  the  most  part  expired. 

One  of  his  personal  experiences  with  au  afrite  amused  m<< 


510  JOURNKi     TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

exceedingly  He  was  walking  one  night  on  the  road  from 
Cairo  to  Shoobra,  when  he  suddenly  saw  a  donkey  before  him. 
As  he  was  somewhat  fatigued,  and  the  donkey  did  not  appear 
lo  have  an  owner,  he  mounted,  and  was  riding  along  very 
pleasantly,  when  he  was  startled  by  the  fact  that  the  animal 
was  gradually  increasing  in  size.  In  a  few  minutes  it  became 
nearly  as  large  as  a  camel ;  and  he  thereby  knew  that  it  was 
no  donkey,  but  an  afrite.  At  first  he  was  in  such  terror  that 
the  hairs  of  his  beard  stood  straight  out  from  his  face,  but 
suddenly  remembering  that  an  afrite  may  be  brought  to  reveal 
his  true  nature  by  wounding  him  with  a  sharp  instrument,  he 
cautiously  drew  his  dagger  and  was  about  to  plunge  it  into  the 
creature's  back.  The  donkey-fiend,  however,  kept  a  sharp 
watch  upr  n  him  with  one  of  his  eyes,  which  was  turned  back- 
wards, and  no  sooner  saw  the  dagger  than  he  contracted  to 
his  original  shape,  shook  off  his  rider  and  whisked  away  with  a 
yell  of  infernal  laughter,  and  the  jeering  exclamation :  "  Ha  ! 
ha !  you  want  to  ride,  do  you  ?  " 

We  had  scarcely  left  Esneh  before  a  fresh  gale  arose,  and 
kept  us  tossing  about  in  the  same  spot  all  night.  These 
blasts  on  the  Nile  cause  a  rise  of  waves  which  so  shake  the 
vessel  that  one  sometimes  feels  a  premonition  of  sea-sickness. 
They  whistle  drearily  through  the  ropes,  like  a  gale  on  the 
open  sea  The  air  at  these  times  is  filled  with  a  gray  haze, 
and  the  mountain  chains  on  either  hand  have  a  dim,  watery 
loom,  like  that  of  mountains  along  the  sea-coast.  For  half  a 
day  I  lay  in  sight  of  Esneh,  but  during  the  following  night,  aa 
there  was  no  wind,  I  could  not  sleep  for  the  songs  of  the  sail- 
ors. The  sunrise  touched  the  colonnade  of  Luxor.  I  slepl 
bej  ond  my  usual  time,  and  on  going  out  of  the  cabin  what 


THEBES    REVISITED.  511 

(»flould  I  see  but  iny  former  guide,  Hassan,  leading  down  the 
beach  the  same  little  brown  mare  on  which  I  had  raced  with 
him  around  Karnak.  We  mounted  and  rode  again  down  the 
now  familiar  road,  but  the  harvests  whose  planting  I  had  wit 
nessed  in  December  were  standing  ripe  or  already  gathered  in. 
It  was  autumn  in  Egypt.  The  broad  rings  of  clay  were 
beaten  for  threshing  floors,  and  camels,  laden  with  stacks  of 
wheat-sheaves  paced  slowly  towards  them  over  the  stubble 
fields.  Herds  of  donkeys  were  to  be  seen  constantly,  carrying 
heavy  sacks  of  wheat  to  the  magazines,  and  the  capacious 
freight-boats  were  gathering  at  the  towns  along  the  Nile  to 
carry  off  the  winter's  produce. 

It  was  a  bright,  warm  and  quiet  day  that  I  spent  at 
Thebes.  The  great  plain,  girdled  by  its  three  mountain- 
chains,  lay  in  a  sublime  repose.  There  was  no  traveller  there, 
and,  as  the  people  were  expecting  none,  they  had  already  given 
up  the  ruins  to  their  summer  silence  and  loneliness.  I  had  no 
company,  on  either  side  of  the  river,  but  my  former  guides, 
who  had  now  become  as  old  friends.  We  rode  to  Karnak,  to 
Medeenet  Abou,  to  the  Memuonium,  and  the  Colossi  of  the 
Plain.  The  ruins  had  now  not  only  a  memory  for  me,  but  a 
language.  They  no  longer  '/rushed  me  with  their  cold,  stern, 
incomprehensible  grandeur.  I  was  calm  as  the  Sphinx,  whose 
lips  no  longer  closed  on  a  mystery.  I  had  gotten  over  the 
awe  of  a  neophyte,  and,  though  so  little  had  been  revealed  t 
me,  walked  among  the  temples  with  the  feelings  of  a  master. 
Let  no  one  condemn  this  expression  as  presumptuous,  foi 
nothing  is  so  simple  aa  Art,  when  once  we  have  the  clue  to  her 
infinite  meanings. 

White  among  the  many  white  days  of  my  travel  that  day 


512  JOURNJCY   TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

at  Thebes  is  registered ;  and  if  I  left  with  pain,  and  the  vast 
regret  we  feel  on  turning  away  from  such  spots,  at  least  I  took 
with  me  the  joy  that  Thebes,  the  mighty  and  the  eternal,  was 
greater  to  me  in  its  living  reality  than  it  had  ever  been  in  all 
the  shadow-pictures  my  anticipation  had  drawn.  Nor  did  the 
faultless  pillars  of  the  Memnonium,  nor  the  obelisks  of  Kar- 
nak,  take  away  my  delight  in  the  humbler  objects  which  kept  a 
recognition  for  me.  The  horses,  whose  desert  blood  sent  its 
contagion  into  mine ;  the  lame  water-boy,  always  at  my  elbow 
with  his  earthen  bottle  ;  the  grave  guides,  who  considered  my 
smattering  of  Arabic  as  something  miraculous,  and  thence 
dubbed  me  "  Taylor  Effendi ;  "  the  half-naked  Fellahs  in  the 
harvest-fields,  who  remembered  some  idle  joke  of  mine, — all 
these  combined  to  touch  the  great  landscape  with  a  home-like 
influence,  and  to  make  it  seem,  in  some  wise,  like  an  old  rest- 
ing-place of  my  heart.  Mustapha  Achmet  Aga,  the  English 
agent  at  Luxor,  had  a  great  deal  to  tell  me  of  the  squabbles  of 
travellers  during  the  winter :  how  the  beach  was  lined  with 
foreign  boats  and  the  temples  crowded  day  after  day  with 
scores  of  visitors ;  how  these  quarrelled  with  their  dragomen, 
and  those  with  their  boatmen,  and  the  latter  with  each  other, 
till  I  thanked  Heaven  for  having  kept  me  away  from  Thebes 
at  such  a  riotous  period. 

Towards  evening  there  was  a  complete  calm,  and  every  thing 
was  so  favorable  for  our  downward  voyage  that  I  declined 
Mustapha's  invitation  to  dine  with  him  the  next  day,  and  set 
ofl  for  Kenneh.  The  sailors  rowed  lustily,  my  servant  Ali 
taking  the  leading  oar.  Ali  was  beside  himself  with  joy,  at 
the  prospect  of  reaching  his  home  and  astonishing  his  family 
with  his  marvellous  adventures  in  Soudan.  He  led  the  chonw 


BONOS    OF    THE    SAILORS.  613 

with  a  voice  so  strong  and  cheery  that  it  rang  froiv  shore  to 
shore.  As  I  was  unable  to  write  or  read,  I  sat  on  deck,  with 
the  boy  Hossayn  at  my  elbow  to  replenish  the  pipe  as  occasion 
required,  arid  listened  to  the  songs  of  the  sailors.  Their 
repertory  was  so  large  that  I  was  unable  to  exhaust  it  during 
the  voyage.  One  of  their  favorite  songs  was  in  irregular 
trochaic  lines,  consisting  of  alternate  questions  and  answers, 
such  as  "  ed-dookan  el-liboodeh  fayn  ?  "  (where's  the  shop  of 
the  cotton  saps  ?)  sung  by  the  leader,  to  which  the  chorus  re- 
sponded :  "  Bdhari  Luxor  beshwoytayn."  (A  little  to  the 
northward  of  Luxor).  Another  favorite  chorus  was  :  Imldl- 
imlal-imlllee f "  (Fill,  fill,  fill  to  me!)  Many  of  the  songs 
wore  of  too  broad  a  character  to  be  translated,  but  there  were 
two  of  a  more  refined  nature,  and  these,  from  the  mingled 
passion,  tenderness  and  melancholy  of  the  airs  to  which  they 
were  sung,  became  great  favorites  of  mine.* 

*  I  give  the  following  translations  of  these  two  songs,  as  nearly  liter- 
al as  possible: 

L 

Look  at  me  with  your  eyes,  0  gazelle,  O  gazelle  1  The  blossom  of 
your  cheeks  is  dear  to  me;  your  breasts  burst,  the  silk  of  your  vest;  1 
cannot,  loose  the  shawl  about  your  waist;  it  sinks  into  your  soft  waist 
Who  possesses  you  is  blessed  by  heaven.  Look  at  me  with  your  eyes: 
O  gazelle,  O  gazelle!  Your  forehead  is  like  the  moon;  your  face  is 
fairer  than  all  the  flowers  of  the  garden;  your  bed  is  of  diamonds;  h« 
is  richer  than  a  King  who  can  sleep  thereon.  Look  at  me  with  yoni 
eyes,  0  gazelle,  0  gazelle  1 

IL 
O  night,  O  night — 0  darling,  I  lie  on  the  sands.      I  languish  for  th« 

light  of  your  face ;  if  you  do  not  have  pity  011  me,  I  shall  die. 
S)  night,  0  night — 0  darling,  I  lie  on  the  sands.     I  have  changed  cotor 
22* 


514  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

Before  sunrise  we  reached  Kenneh.  Here  I  was  obliged 
to  stop  a  day  to  let  the  men  bake  their  bread,  and  I  employed 
the  time  in  taking  a  Turkish  bath  and  revisiting  the  temple  of 
Dendera.  My  servant  Ali  left  me,  as  his  family  resided  in 
the  place.  I  gave  him  a  good  present,  in  consideration  of  his 
service  during  the  toilsome  journey  we  had  just  closed.  He 
kissed  my  hand  very  gratefully,  and  I  felt  some  regret  at 
parting  with,  as  I  believed,  an  honest  servant,  and  a  worthy, 
though  wild  young  fellow.  What  was  my  mortification  on 
discovering  the  next  day  that  he  had  stolen  from  me  the  beau- 
tiful stick,  which  had  been  given  me  in  Khartoum  by  the  Sul- 
tana Nasra.  The  actual  worth  of  the  stick  was  trifling,  but  the 
mtion  betrayed  an  ingratitude  which  I  had  not  expected,  even 
"n  an  Arab.  I  had  a  charming  ride  to  Dendera,  over  the  fra 
grant  grassy  plain,  rippled  by  the  warm  west  wind.  I  was  ac 
companied  only  by  the  Fellah  who  owned  my  donkey — an  arnia 
ble  fellow,  who  told  me  many  stories  about  the  robbers  who  used 
formerly  to  come  in  from  the  Desert  and  plunder  the  country 
We  passed  a  fine  field  of  wheat,  growing  on  land  which  had 
been  uncultivated  for  twenty  years.  My  attendant  said  that 
this  was  the  work  of  a  certain  Efiendi,  who,  having  seen  the 
neglected  field,  said  that  it  was  wrong  to  let  God's  good  ground 
lie  idle,  and  so  planted  It.  "  But  he  was  truly  a  good  man," 
he  added ;  "  and  that  is  the  reason  why  the  crop  is  so  good. 
If  he  had  been  a  bad  man,  the  wheat  would  not  have  grown  so 
tinely  as  you  see  it." 

from  my  longing  and  cy  sorrow ;  you  only  can  restore  me,  (.)  mj 
darling. 

O  night,  0  night— 0  darling,  1  lie  on  the  sands.  O  dailing,  tane  me  in; 
give  me  a  place  by  yovu  side,  or  I  must  go  back  rretched  to  m^ 
own  country 


DESCENDING    THE    NILE.  61fi 

For  three  days  after  leaving  Kenneh,  a  furious  head- wind 
did  its  best  to  beat  me  back,  and  in  that  time  we  only  made 
sixty  miles.  I  sighed  when  I  thought  of  the  heaps  of  letters 
awaiting  me  in  Cairo,  and  Achmet  could  not  sleep,  from  thfl 
desire  of  seeing  his  family  once  more.  He  considered  himself 
as  one  risen  from  the  dead.  He  had  heard  in  Luxor  that  hie 
wife  was  alarmed  at  his  long  absence,  and  that  his  little  sou 
went  daily  to  Boulak  to  make  inquiries  among  the  returning 
boats.  Besides,  my  eyes  were  no  better.  I  could  not  go 
ashore,  as  we  kept  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and  my  only 
employment  was  to  lounge  on  the  outside  divan  and  gossip 
with  the  rais.  One  evening,  when  the  sky  was  overcast,  and 
the  wind  whirled  through  the  palm-trees,  we  saw  a  boy  on  the 
bank  crying  for  his  brother,  who  had  started  to  cross  the  river 
but  was  no  longer  to  be  seen.  Presently  an  old  man  came  out 
to  look  for  him,  in  a  hollow  palm-log,  which  rolled  on  the 
rough  waves.  We  feared  the  boy  had  been  drowned,  but  not 
long  afterwards  came  upon  him,  drifting  at  the  mercy  of  the 
current,  having  broken  his  oar.  By  the  old  man's  assistance 
he  got  back  to  the  shore  in  safety. 

On  the  fourth  day  the  wind  ceased.  The  Lotus  floated 
down  the  stream  as  lightly  as  the  snowy  blossom  whose  name 
I  gave  her.  We  passed  Girgeh,  Ekhmin ;  and  at  noon  we 
brushed  the  foot  of  Djebel  Shekh  Hereedee  and  reached  the 
landing-place  of  Tahtah.  I  had  a  letter  from  Rufaa  Bey  in 
Khartoum  to  his  family  in  the  latter  town,  and  accordingly 
walked  thither  through  fields  of  superb  wheat,  heavy  with 
ripening  ears.  Tahtah  is  a  beautiful  old  town ;  the  houses  are 
of  burnt  brick ;  the  wood-work  shows  the  same  fanciful  Sara- 
jenio  patterns  as  in  Cairo,  and  the  bazaar  is  as  uuiet,  dim  and 


516  JOURNET    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

spicy  as  an  Oriental  dream.  I  found  the  Bey's  house,  and 
delivered  my  letter  through  a  slave.  The  wife,  or  wives,  who 
remained  in  the  hareem,  invisible,  entertained  me  with  coffee 
and  pipes,  in  the  same  manner,  while  a  servant  went  to  bring 
the  Bey's  son  from  school.  Two  Copts,  who  had  assisted  me  in 
finding  the  house,  sat  in  the  court-yard,  and  entertained  them- 
selves with  speculations  concerning  my  journey,  not  supposing 
that  I  understood  them.  "  Grirgos,''  said  one  to  the  other, 
"  the  Frank  must  have  a  great  deal  of  money  to  spend. n 
"  You  may  well  say  that;"  his  friend  replied,  "  this  journey 
to  Soudan  must  have  cost  him  at  least  three  hundred  purses." 
In  a  short  time  the  Bey's  son  came,  accompanied  by  the 
schoolmaster.  He  was  a  weak,  languid  boy  of  eight  or  nine 
years  old,  and  our  interview  was  not  very  interesting.  I  there- 
fore sent  the  slave  to  bring  donkeys  and  we  rode  back  to  tka 
boat. 


MOUT    IN    HARVEST -TIME,  517 


CHAPTER    XL. 

THE      RETURN      TO      CAIRO CONCLtJSIOH. 

Bioat  In  Harvest-time— A  kind  Englishwoman— A  Slight  Experience  of  Hasneesh- 
The  Calm— Rapid  Progress  down  the  Nile— The  Last  Day  of  the  Voyage— Arrlr4 
at  Cairo— Tourists  preparing  for  the  Desert — Parting  with  Achmet — Conclusion. 

WE  reached  Siout  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty-eighth  of 
March,  twelve  days  after  leaving  Assouan.  I  had  seen  the 
town,  during  the  Spring  of  an  Egyptian  November,  glittering 
over  seas  of  lusty  clover  and  young  wheat,  and  thought  it  never 
could  look  so  lovely  again ;  but  as  I  rode  up  the  long  dyke, 
overlooking  the  golden  waves  of  harvest,  and  breathing  the 
balm  wafted  from  lemon  groves  spangled  all  over  with  their 
milky  bloom,  I  knew  not  which  picture  to  place  in  my  mind's 
gallery.  I  remained  half  a  day  iu  the  place,  partly  for  old  ac- 
quaintance sake,  and  partly  to  enjoy  the  bath,  the  cleanest  and 
most  luxurious  in  Egypt.  I  sought  for  some  relief  to  my 
eyes,  and  as  they  continued  to  pain  me  considerably,  I  went 
on  board  an  English  boat  which  had  arrived  before  me,  in  the 
hope  of  finding  some  medicine  adapted  to  my  case.  The  trav- 
ellers were  a  most  innocent-faced  Englishman  and  his  wife—* 
beautiful,  home-like  little  creature,  with  as  kind  ft  heart  tt 


SI 8  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

ever  beat.  They  had  no  medicine,  but  somebody  had  reeom 
mended  a  decoction  of  parsley,  and  the  amiable  woman  spoiled 
their  soup  to  make  me  some,  and  I  half  snspect  threw  away 
her  Eau  de  Cologne  to  get  a  bottle  to  put  it  in.  I  am  sure  I 
bathed  my  eyes  duly,  with  a  strong  faith  in  its  efficacy,  and 
fancied  that  they  were  actually  improving,  but  on  the  second 
day  the  mixture  turned  sour  and  I  was  thrown  back  on  my 
hot  water  and  cold  water. 

While  in  Egypt,  I  had  frequently  heard  mention  of  the 
curious  effects  produced  by  hasheesh,  a  preparation  made  from 
the  canndbis  indica.  On  reaching  Siout,  I  took  occasion  to 
buy  some,  for  the  purpose  of  testing  it.  It  was  a  sort  of  paste, 
made  of  the  leaves  of  the  plant,  mixed  with  sugar  and  spices. 
The  taste  is  aromatic  and  slightly  pungent,  but  by  no  means 
disagreeable.  About  sunset,  I  took  what  Achmet  considered 
to  be  a  large  dose,  and  waited  half  an  hour  without  feeling  the 
slightest  effect.  I  then  repeated  it,  and  drank  a  cup  of  hot  tea 
immediately  afterwards.  In  about  ten  minutes,  I  became  con- 
scious of  the  gentlest  and  balmiest  feeling  of  rest  stealing  over 
aie.  The  couch  on  which  I  sat  grew  soft  and  yielding  as  air  • 
my  flesh  was  purged  from  all  gross  quality,  and  became  a 
gossamer  filagree  of  exquisite  nerves,  every  one  tingling  with  a 
sensation  which  was  too  dim  and  soft  to  be  pleasure,  but  which 
resembled  nothing  else  so  nearly.  No  sum  could  have  tempt- 
ed me  to  move  a  finger.  The  slightest  shock  seemed  enough 
to  crush  a  structure  so  frail  and  delicate  as  I  had  become.  I 
telt  like  one  of  those  wonderful  sprays  of  brittle  spar  which 
hang  for  ages  in  the  unstirred  air  of  a  cavern,  but  are  shivered 
to  pieces  by  the  breath  of  the  first  explorer. 

As  this   sensation,  which    lasted   but  a  short  time,  waa 


A    SLIOHr    EXPERIENCE    OK    1IA8HEK8H.  519 

gradually  fading  away,  I  found  myself  infected  with  a  ten 
dency  to  view  the  most  common  objects  in  a  ridiculous  light 
Achmet  was  sitting  on  one  of  the  provision  chests,  as  was  1m 
custom  of  an  evening.  I  thought :  was  there  ever  any  thinp 
BO  absurd  as  to  see  him  sitting  on  that  chest  ?  and  laughed  im- 
moderately at  the  idea.  The  turban  worn  by  the  captain  next 
put  on  such  a  quizzical  appearance  that  I  chuckled  over  it  foi 
some  time.  Of  all  turbans  in  the  world  it  was  the  most  ludi- 
crous. Various  other  things  affected  me  in  like  manner,  and 
at  last  it  seemed  to  me  that  my  eyes  were  increasing  in 
breadth.  "  Achmet,"  I  called  out,  "  how  is  this  ?  my  eyes  arc 
precisely  like  two  onions."  This  was  my  crowning  piece  of 
absurdity.  I  laughed  so  loud  and  long  at  the  singular  com- 
parison I  had  made,  that  when  I  ceased  from  sheer  weariness 
the  effect  was  over.  But  on  the  following  morning  my  eyes 
were  much  better,  and  I  was  able  to  write,  for  the  first  time  in 
a  week. 

The  calm  we  had  prayed  for  was  given  to  us.  The  Lotus 
floated,  sailed  and  was  rowed  down  the  Nile  at  the  rate  of 
seventy  miles  a  day,  all  hands  singing  in  oftorus  day  and  night, 
while  the  rais  and  his  nephew  Hossayn  beat  the  tarabooka  01 
played  the  reedy  zumarra.  It  was  a  triumphal  march ;  for 
my  six  men  outrowed  the  ten  men  of  the  Englishman.  Some- 
times the  latter  came  running  behind  us  till  they  were  within 
hail,  whereupon  my  men  would  stand  up  in  their  places,  and 
thundering  out  their  contemptuous  chorus  of  "  he  torn,  tom^ 
koosbarra  ! "  strike  the  water  so  furiously  with  their  long 
oars,  that  their  rivals  soon  slunk  out  of  hearing.  So  we  went 
down,  all  excitement,  passing  in  one  day  a  space,  which  it  had 
taken  us  four  days  to  make,  on  our  ascent.  One  day  at  Man 


520  4OUBNET    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

faloot ;  the  next  at  Minyek  •  the  next  at  Benisooef ;  the  next 
in  sight  of  the  Pyramids ;  and  so  it  came  to  pass  that  in  spite 
of  all  my  delays  before  reaching  Siout,  on  the  sixteenth  day 
after  leaving  Assouan,  I  saw  the  gray  piles  of  Dashoor  and 
Sakkara  pass  behind  me  and  grow  dim  under  the  Libyan 
Hills. 

And  now  dawns  the  morning  of  the  first  of  April,  1852 — a 
day  which  will  be  ever  memorable  to  Achmet  and  myself,  as 
that  of  our  return  to  Cairo.  When  the  first  cock  crowed  in 
some  village  on  shore,  we  all  arose  and  put  the  Lotus  in  mo- 
tion. Over  the  golden  wheat-fields  of  the  western  bank  the 
pyramids  of  Dashoor  stand  clear  and  purple  in  the  distance. 
It  is  a  superb  morning ;  calm,  bright,  mild,  and  vocal  with  the 
songs  of  a  thousand  birds  among  the  palms.  Ten  o'clock 
comes,  and  Achmet,  who  has  been  standing  on  the  cabin-roof, 
cries  :  "  0  my  master  !  God  be  praised  !  there  are  the  mina- 
rets of  Sultar  Hassan  ! "  At  noon  there  is  a  strong  head- 
wind, but  the  men  dare  not  stop.  We  rejoice  over  every  mile 
they  make.  The  minaret  of  old  Cairo  is  in  sight,  and  I  give 
the  boat  until  three  o'clock  to  reach  the  place.  If  it  fails,  I 
shall  land  and  walk.  The  wind  slackens  a  little  and  we  work 
down  towards  the  island  of  Roda,  Gizeh  on  our  left.  At  last 
we  enter  the  narrow  channel  between  the  island  and  Old  Cairo; 
it  is  not  yet  three  o'clock.  I  have  my  pistols  loaded  with  a 
double  charge  of  powder.  There  are  donkeys  and  donkey-boys 
on  the  shore,  but  Arabian  chargers  with  Persian  grooms  were 
not  a  more  welcome  sight.  We  call  them,  and  a  horde  comes 
rushing  down  to  the  water.  I  fire  my  pistols  against  the  bank 
of  Roda,  stunning  the  gardeners  and  frightening  the  donkey 
boys.  Mounted  at  last,  leaving  Achmet  to  go  on  with  the 


ARRIVAL    AT    CAIRO.  521 

boat  to  Boulak,  I  dash  at  full  speed  down  the  long  street  lead- 
ing  into  the  heart  of  Cairo.  No  heed  now  of  a  broken  neck  : 
away  we  go,  upsetting  Turks,  astonishing  Copts  and  making 
Christians  indignant,  till  I  pull  up  in  the  shady  alley  before 
the  British  consulate.  The  door  is  not  closed,  and  I  go  up 
stairs  with  three  leaps  and  ask  for  letters.  None;  but  a 
quantity  of  papers  which  the  shirt  of  my  donkey-boy  is  scarce- 
ly capacious  enough  to  hold.  And  now  at  full  speed  to  my 
banker's.  "Are  there  any  letters  for  me?"  "Letters? — a 
drawer  full ! "  and  he  reaches  me  the  missives,  more  precious 
than  gold.  Was  not  that  a  sweet  repayment  for  my  five 
months  in  the  heat  and  silence  and  mystery  of  mid-Africa, 
when  I  sat  by  my  window,  opening  on  the  great  square  of  Cai- 
ro, fanned  by  cool  airs  from  the  flowering  lemon  groves,  with 
the  words  of  home  in  my  ears,  and  my  heart  beating  a  fervent 
response  to  the  sunset  call  from  the  minarets  :  "  God  is  great ! 
God  is  merciful  1 " 


1  stayed  eight  days  in  Cairo,  to  allow  my  eyes  time  to 
heal  The  season  of  winter  travel  was  over,  and  the  few 
tourists  who  still  lingered,  were  about  starting  for  Palestine, 
by  way  of  Gaza,  People  were  talking  of  the  intense  heat,  and 
dreading  the  advent  of  the  khamseen,  or  south-wind,  so  called 
because  it  blows  fifty  days.  I  found  the  temperature  rather 
cool  than  warm,  and  the  khamseen,  which  blew  occasionally, 
filling  the  city  with  dust,  was  mild  as  a  zephyr,  compared  to 
the  furnace-like  blasts  of  the  African  Desert.  Gentlemen  pre 
pared  themselves  for  the  journey  across  the  Desert,  by  pur 
chasing  broad-brimmed  hats,  green  veils,  double-lined  ombre1 


522  JOURNEY    TO    CENTRAL    AFRICA. 

las,  and  blue  spectacles.  These  may  be  all  very  good,  but  1 
have  never  seen  the  sun  nor  felt  the  heat  which  could  indue* 
me  to  adopt  them.  I  would  not  exchange  my  recollections  of 
the  fierce  red  Desert,  blazing  all  over  with  intensest  light,  fot 
any  amount  of  green,  gauzy  sky  and  blue  sand.  And  as  for 
an  umbrella,  the  Desert  with  a  continual  shade  around  you,  is 
uo  desert  at  all.  You  must  let  the  Sun  lay  his  sceptre  on 
your  head,  if  you  want  to  know  his  power. 

I  left  Cairo  with  regret,  as  I  left  Thebes  and  the  White 
Nile,  and  every  other  place  which  gives  one  all  that  he  came 
to  seek.  Moreover,  I  left  behind  me  my  faithful  dragoman, 
Achmet.  He  had  found  a  new  son  in  his  home,  but  also  an 
invalid  wife,  who  demanded  his  care,  and  so  he  was  obliged  to 
give  up  the  journey  with  me  through  Syria.  He  had  quite  en- 
deared himself  to  me  by  his  constant  devotion,  his  activity, 
honesty  and  intelligence,  and  I  had  always  treated  him  rather 
as  a  friend  than  servant.  I  believe  the  man  really  loved  me, 
for  he  turned  pale  under  all  the  darkness  of  his  skin,  when  we 
parted  at  Boulak. 

I  took  the  steamer  for  Alexandria,  and  two  or  three  days 
afterwards  sailed  for  fresh  adventures  in  another  Continent. 
If  the  reader,  who  has  been  my  companion  during  the  journey 
which  is  now  closed,  should  experience  no  more  fatigue  than  ] 
did  we  may  hereafter  share  also  in  those  adventures. 


FINIS. 


JOSEPH   AND    HIS    FRIEND 

A  STORY  OF  PENNSYLVANIA 


The  better  angel  is  a  man  right  fair  ; 
The  worser  spirit  a  woman  colour'd  ill. 

SHAKESPEARE  :  Sontteti, 


AUTHOR  S    REVISED    EDITION 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1870,  by 

BAYARD  TAYLOR, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  or  Congress,  at  Washington. 


%*  To  those  who  prefer  quiet  pictures  of  life  to  star- 
tling incidents,  the  attempt  to  illustrate  the  development  of 
character  to  the  mysteries  of  an  elaborate  plot,  and  the  pro* 
sentation  of  men  and  women  in  their  mixed  strength  and 
weakness  to  the  painting  of  wholly  virtuous  ideals  and 
wholly  evil  examples :  who  are  as  interested  in  seeing  moral 
and  intellectual  forces  at  work  in  a  simple  country  commu- 
nity as  on  a  more  conspicuous  plane  of  human  action :  who 
believe  in  the  truth  and  tenderness  of  man's  love  for  man, 
as  of  man's  love  for  woman:  who  recognize  the  trouble 
which  confused  ideas  of  life  and  the  lack  of  high  and  intel- 
ligent culture  bring  upon  a  great  portion  of  our  country 
population, — to  all  such,  no  explanation  of  this  volume  u 
necessary.  Others  will  not  read  it. 


CONTENTS 


L  Joseph 1 

IL  Miss  Blessing 11 

in.  The  Place  and  People 23 

IV.  Miss  Blessing  calls  on  Rachel  Miller 81 

V.  Elwood's  Evening,  and  Joseph's. 43 

VL  In  the  Garden 68 

VTL  The  Blessing  Family. 66 

mi.  A  Consultation 81 

IX.  Joseph  and  his  Friend. 89 

X.  Approaching  Fate. 101 

XI.  A  City  Wedding 118 

XIL  Clouds 133 

Xm.  Presentiments 133 

XIV.  The  Amaranth 142 

XV.   A  Dinner  Party 155 


CONTENTS. 


XVI  Joseph's  Trouble,  and  Philip's 168 

XVTL  A  Storm. 178 

XVHL  On  the  Railroad  Track 190 

XTX.  The  "Wharf-rat" 801 

XX.  A  Crisis 206 

TTXT   Under  the  Water 218 

TTTT    Kanuck 23l 

YTTTT.  Julia's  Experiment 242 

XXIV.  Fate 256 

XXV.  The  Mourners. 268 

XXVI.  The  Accusation. 280 

XXVLL  The  Labels 290 

XXVIII    The  Trial 803 

New  Evidence 815 

Mr.  Blessing's  Testimonj.    ..    325 

Beginning  another  Life 837 

TTTTT.  Letters— I.  Joseph  to  Philip 84S 

KXXHL  All  are  Happy. 857 


JOSEPH  AND  HIS  FRIEND. 


"  The  better  angel  is  a  man  right  fair  ; 
The  worser  spirit  a  woman  colored  ill." 

SHAKBSPBAKE,  Sonnets. 


CHAPTER  I. 

JOSEPH. 

RACHEL  MILLER  was  not  a  little  surprised  when  her 
nephew  Joseph  came  to  the  supper-table,  not  from  the 
direction  of  the  barn  and  through  the  kitchen,  as  usual, 
but  from  the  back  room  up-stairs,  where  he  slept.  His 
work-day  dress  had  disappeared  ;  he  wore  his  best  Sunday 
suit,  put  on  with  unusual  care,  and  there  were  faint 
pomatum  odors  in  the  air  when  he  sat  down  to  the  table. 

Her  face  said — and  she  knew  it — as  plain  as  any  words, 
"What  in  the  world  does  this  mean  ?"  Joseph,  she  saw, 
endeavored  to  look  as  though  coming  down  to  supper  in 
that  costume  were  his  usual  habit  ;  so  she  poured  out  the 
tea  in  silence.  Her  silence,  however,  was  eloquent  ;  a 
hundred  interrogation  marks  would  not  have  expressed 
its  import ;  and  Dennis,  the  hired  man,  who  sat  on  the 
other  side  of  the  table,  experienced  very  much  the  same 
apprehension  of  something  forthcoming,  as  when  he  had 
killed  her  favorite  speckled  hen  by  mistake. 

'Before  tlic  meal  was  over,  the  tension  between  Joseph  and 
his  aunt  had  so  increased  by  reason  of  their  mutual  silence, 


2  JOSEPH   AUD   HIS   FRIEND. 

that  it  was  very  awkward  and  oppressive  to  both ;  yet 
neither  knew  how  to  break  it  easily.  There  is  always  a  great 
deal  of  unnecessary  reticence  in  the  intercourse  of  country 
people,  and  in  the  case  of  these  two  it  had  been  specially 
strengthened  by  the  want  of  every  relationship  except  that 
of  blood.  They  were  quite  ignorant  of  the  fence,  the  easy 
thrust  and  parry  of  society,  where  talk  becomes  an  art; 
silence  or  the  bluntest  utterance  were  their  alternatives,  and 
now  the  one  had  neutralized  the  other.  Both  felt  this,  and 
Dennis,  in  his  dull  way,  felt  it  too.  Although  not  a  party 
concerned,  he  was  uncomfortable,  yet  also  internally  con- 
scious of  a  desire  to  laugh. 

The  resolution  of  the  crisis,  however,  came  by  his  aid. 
When  the  meal  was  finished  and  Joseph  betook  himself  to 
the  window,  awkwardly  drumming  upon  the  pane,  while  his 
aunt  gathered  the  plates  and  cups  together,  delaying  to  re- 
move them  as  was  her  wont,  Dennis  said,  with  his  hand  on 
the  door-knob :  " Shall  I  saddle  the  horse  right  off?" 

u  I  guess  so,"  Joseph  answered,  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion. 

Rachel  paused,  with  the  two  silver  spoons  in  her  hand. 
Joseph  was  still  drumming  upon  the  window,  but  with  very 
irregular  taps.  The  door  closed  upon  Dennis. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  with  singular  calmness,  "  a  body  is  not 
bound  to  dress  particularly  fine  for  watching,  though  I 
would  as  soon  show  him  that  much  respect,  if  need  be,  aa 
anybody  else.  Don't  forget  to  ask  Maria  if  there 's  any- 
thing I  can  do  for  her." 

Joseph  turned  around  with  a  start,  a  most  innocent  sur- 
prise on  his  face. 

"  Why,  aunt,  what  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 

"  You  are  not  going  to  Warne's  to  watch  ?     They  have 


JOSEPH    AND*HIS   KKTEND.  8 

nearer  neighbors,  to  be  sure,  but  when  a  man  dies,  every 
body  is  free  to  offer  their  services.  He  was  alwaysstrongic 
the  faith." 

Joseph  knew  that  he  was  caught,  without  suspecting  her 
manoeuvre.  A  brighter  color  ran  over  his  face,  up  to  the 
roots  of  his  hair.  "  Why,  no  !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  "  I  am  going 
to  Warriner's  to  spend  the  evening.  There's  to  be  a  little 
company  there, — a  neighborly  gathering.  I  believe  it's 
been  talked  of  this  long  while,  but  I  was  only  invited  to- 
day. I  saw  Bob,  in  the  road-field." 

Rachel  endeavored  to  conceal  from  her  nephew's  eye  the 
immediate  impression  of  his  words.  A  constrained  smile 
passed  over  her  face,  and  was  instantly  followed  by  a  cheer- 
ful relief  in  his. 

"  Isn't  it  rather  a  strange  time  of  year  for  evening  par- 
ties ? "  she  then  asked,  with  a  touch  of  severity  in  her 
voice. 

"  They  meant  to  have  it  in  cherry-time,  Bob  said,  when 
Anna's  visitor  had  come  from  town." 

"  That,  indeed  !  I  see !  "  Rachel  exclaimed.  "  It's  to  be 
a  sort  of  celebration  for — what's-her-name  ?  Blessing,  I 
know, — but  the  other?  Anna  "Warriner  was  there  last 
Christmas,  and  I  don't  suppose  the  high  notions  are  out  of 
her  head  yet.  Well,  I  hope  it'll  be  some  time  before  they 
take  root  here  !  Peace  and  quiet,  peace  and  quiet,  that's 
been  the  token  of  the  neighborhood ;  but  town  ways  are  the 
reverse." 

"All  the  young  people  are  going,"  Joseph  mildly  sug- 
gested, "  and  so—" 

"  O,  I  don't  say  you  shouldn't  go,  this  time,"  Rachel  in- 
terrupted him ;  "  for  you  ought  to  be  able  to  judge  for  your- 
eelf  what's  fit  and  proper,  and  what  is  not.  I  should  be  sorry 


4  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

to  be  sure,  to  see  you  doing  anything  and  going  anywhere 
that  would  make  your  mother  uneasy  if  she  were  living  now. 
It's  so  hard  to  be  conscientious,  and  to  mind  a  body's 
bounden  duty,  without  seeming  to  interfere." 

She  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  just  touched  the  corner  of 
her  apron  to  her  eyes.  The  mention  of  his  mother  always 
softened  Joseph,  and  in  his  earnest  desire  to  live  so  that  his 
life  might  be  such  as  to  give  her  joy  if  she  could  share  it,  a 
film  of  doubt  spread  itself  over  the  smooth,  pure  surface  of 
his  mind.  A  vague  consciousness  of  his  inability  to  express 
himself  clearly  upon  the  question  without  seeming  to  slight 
her  memory  affected  his  thoughts. 

"  But,  remember,  Aunt  Rachel,"  he  said,  at  last,  "  I  was 
not  old  enough,  then,  to  go  into  society.  She  surely  meant 
that  I  should  have  some  independence,  when  the  time  came. 
I  am  doing  no  more,  than  all  the  young  men  of  the  neigh- 
borhood." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  know,"  she  replied,  in  a  melancholy  tone ; 
u  but  they've  got  used  to  it  by  degrees,  and  mostly  in  their 
own  homes,  and  with  sisters  to  caution  them ;  whereas  you're 
younger  according  to  your  years,  and  innocent  of  the  ways 
and  wiles  of  men,  and — and  girls." 

Joseph  painfully  felt  that  this  last  assertion  was  true. 
Suppressing  the  impulse  to  exclaim,  "  Why  am  I  younger 
'  according  to  my  years  ? '  why  am  I  so  much  more  '  inno- 
cent'— which  is,  ignorant — than  others?"  he  blundered  out, 
with  a  little  display  of  temper,  **  Well,  how  am  I  ever  to 
learn?" 

"  By  patience,  and  taking  care  of  yourself.  There's  al- 
ways safety  in  waiting.  I  don't  mean  you  shouldn't  go  this 
evening,  since  you've  promised  it,  and  made  yourself  smart 
But,  mark  my  words,  this  is  only  the  beginning.  The  season 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  5 

makes  no  difference ;  townspeople  never  seem  to  know  thai 
there's  such  things  as  hay-harvest  and  corn  to  be  -worked. 
Thev  come  out  for  merry-makings  in  the  busy  time,  and 
want  us  country  folks  to  give  up  everything  for  their  pleasure. 
The  tired  plough-horses  must  be  geared  up  for  'em,  and  the 
cows  wait  an  hour  or  two  longer  to  be  milked  while  they're 
driving  around  ;  and  the  chickens  killed  half-grown,  and  the 
washing  and  baking  put  off  when  it  comes  in  their  way. 
They're  mighty  nice  and  friendly  while  it  lasts  ;  but  go  back 
to  'em  in  town,  six  months  afterwards,  and  see  whether 
they'll  so  much  as  ask  you  to  take  a  meal's  victuals  I  " 

Joseph  began  to  laugh.  "  It  is  not  likely,"  he  said,  "  that 
I  shall  ever  go  to  the  Blessings  for  a  meal,  or  that  this  Miss 
Julia — as  they  call  her — will  ever  interfere  with  our  har- 
vesting or  milking." 

"The  airs  they  put  on!"  Rachel  continued.  "She'll 
very  likely  think  that  she's  doing  you  a  favor  by  so  much  as 
speaking  to  you.  When  the  Bishops  had  boarders,  two  years 
ago,  one  of  'em  said, — Maria  told  me  with  her  own  mouth, 
— 'Why  don't  all  the  farmers  follow  your  example?  It 
would  be  so  refining  for  them  ! '  They  may  be  very  well  in 
their  place,  but,  for  my  part,  I  should  like  them  to  stay 
there." 

"  There  comes  the  horse,"  said  Joseph.  "  I  must  be  on 
the  way.  I  expect  to  meet  Elwood  Withers  at  the  lane-end. 
But — about  waiting,  Aunt — you  hardly  need — " 

"  O,  yes,  I'll  wait  for  you,  of  course.  Ten  o'clock  is  not 
so  very  late  for  me." 

"  It  might  be  a  little  after,"  he  suggested. 

"  Not  much,  I  hope ;  but  if  it  should  be  daybreak,  wait 
I  will !  Your  mother  couldn't  expect  less  of  me." 

When  Joseph  whirled  into  the  saddle,  the  thought  of  hi* 


6  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

aunt,  grimly  waiting  for  his  return,  was  already  perched 
like  an  imp  on  the  crupper,  and  clung  to  his  sides  with  clawa 
of  steel.  She,  looking  through  the  window,  also  felt  that  it 
was  so ;  and,  much  relieved,  went  back  to  her  household 
duties. 

He  rode  very  slowly  down  the  lane,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  ground.  There  was  a  rich  orange  flush  of  sunset  on  the 
hills  across  the  valley  ;  masses  of  burning  cumuli  hung,  self- 
suspended,  above  the  farthest  woods,  and  such  depths  of 
purple-gray  opened  beyond  them  as  are  wont  to  rouse  the 
slumbering  fancies  and  hopes  of  a  young  man's  heart ;  but 
the  beauty  and  fascination  and  suggestiveness  of  the  hour 
could  not  lift  his  downcast,  absorbed  glance.  At  last  his 
horse,  stopping  suddenly  at  the  gate,  gave  a  whinny  of  re- 
cognition, which  was  answered. 

El  wood  Withers  laughed.  "  Can  you  tell  me  where 
Joseph  Asten  lives  ?  "  he  cried, — "  an  old  man,  very  much 
bowed  and  bent." 

Joseph  also  laughed,  with  a  blush,  as  he  met  the  other's 
strong,  friendly  face.  "  There  is  plenty  of  time,"  he  said, 
leaning  over  his  horse's  neck  and  lifting  the  latch  of  the  gate. 

"  All  right ;  but  you  must  now  wake  up.  You're  spruce 
enough  to  make  a  figure  to-night." 

"O,  no  doubt!"  Joseph  gravely  answered ;  "but  what 
kind  of  a  figure?  " 

"  Some  people,  I've  heard  say,"  said  Elwood,  "  may  look 
into  their  looking-glass  every  day,  and  never  know  how  they 
look.  If  you  appeared  to  yourself  as  you  appear  to  me,  you 
wouldn't  ask  such  a  question  as  that." 

"  If  I  could  only  not  think  of  myself  at  all,  Elwood, — if 
I  could  be  as  unconcerned  as  you  are — " 

"  But  I'm  not,  Joseph,   my  boy !  "  Elwood  interrupted, 


JOSEPH    AND   IITS   FRIEND.  7 

riding  nearer  and  laying  a  hand  on  his  friend's  shoulder.  "  1 
tell  you,  it  weakens  my  very  marrow  to  walk  into  a  room 
full  o'  girls,  even  though  I  know  every  one  of  'em.  They 
know  it,  too,  and,  shy  and  quiet  as  they  seem,  they're  un- 
merciful. There  they  sit,  all  looking  so  different,  somehow, 
— even  a  fellow's  own  sisters  and  cousins, — filling  up  all 
sides  of  the  room,  rustling  a  little  and  whispering  a  little,  but 
you  feel  that  every  one  of  'em  has  her  eyes  on  you,  and 
would  be  so  glad  to  see  you  flustered.  There's  no  help  for 
it,  though;  we've  got  to  grow  case-hardened  to  that  much,  or 
how  ever  could  a  man  get  married  ?  " 

"  El  wood  !  "  Joseph  asked,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "  were 
you  ever  in  love  ?  " 

"  Well," — and  Elwood  pulled  up  his  horse  in  surprise, — 
"  well,  you  do  come  out  plump.  You  take  the  breath  out  of 
my  body.  Have  I  been  in  love  ?  Have  I  committed  murder  ? 
One's  about  as  deadly  a  secret  as  the  other  !  " 

The  two  looked  each  other  in  the  face.  Elwood's  eyes 
answered  the  question,  but  Joseph's, — large,  shy,  and  utterly 
innocent, — could  not  read  the  answer. 

"  It's  easy  to  see  you've  never  been,"  said  the  former, 
dropping  his  voice  to  a  grave  gentleness.  "  If  I  should  say 
Yes,  what  then  ?  " 

"  Then,  how  do  you  know  it, — I  mean,  how  did  you  first 
begin  to  find  it  out  ?  What  is  the  difference  between  that 
and  the  feeling  you  have  towards  any  pleasant  girl  whom  you 
like  to  be  with  ?  " 

"  All  the  difference  in  the  world  !  "  Elwood  exclaimed  with 
energy ;  then  paused,  and  knitted  his  brows  with  a  perplex- 
ed air ;  "  but  I'll  be  shot  if  I  know  exactly  what  else  to 
say ;  I  never  thought  of  it  before.  How  do  I  know  that  I 
in  Elwood  Withers?  It  seems  just  as  plain  as  that, — and 


8  1O8EPH   AND   HIS   FBTJEND. 

yet-  -well,  for  one  thing,  she 's  always  in  your  mind,  and  yoc 
think  and  dream  of  just  nothing  but  her;  and  you'd  rathei 
have  the  hem  of  her  dress  touch  you  than  kiss  anybody  else 
and  you  want  to  be  near  her,  and  to  have  her  all  to  yourself 
yet  it's  hard  work  to  speak  a  sensible  word  to  her  when  you 
come  together, — but,  what's  the  use  ?  A  fellow  must  feel  it 
himself,  as  they  say  of  experiencing  religion ;  he  must  get 
converted,  or  he'll  never  know.  Now,  1  don't  suppose 
you've  understood  a  word  of  what  I've  said  1 " 

"  Yes !  "  Joseph  answered ;  "  indeed,  I  think  so.  It's 
only  an  increase  of  what  we  all  feel  towards  some  persons. 
I  have  been  hoping,  latterly,  that  it  might  come  to  me,  but — 
buW 

"  But  your  time  will  come,  like  every  man's,"  said  El- 
wood  ;  "  and,  maybe,  sooner  than  you  think.  When  it  does, 
you  won't  need  to  ask  anybody ;  though  I  think  you're 
bound  to  tell  me  of  it,  after  pumping  my  own  secret  out  oi 
me." 

Joseph  looked  grave. 

"  Never  mind ;  I  wasn't  obliged  to  let  you  have  it.  I 
know  you're  close-mouthed  and  honest-hearted,  Joseph ;  but 
I'll  never  ask  your  confidence  unless  you  can  give  it  as  freely 
as  I  give  mine  to  you." 

"  You  shall  have  it,  Elwood,  if  my  time  ever  comes.  And 
I  can't  help  wishing  for  the  time,  although  it  may  not  be 
right.  You  know  how  lonely  it  is  on  the  farm,  and  yet  it's 
not  always  easy  for  me  to  get  away  into  company.  Aunt 
Rachel  stands  in  mother's  place  to  me,  and  maybe  it's  only 
natural  that  she  should  be  over- concerned ;  any  way,  seeing 
what  she  has  done  for  my  sake,  I  am  hindered  from  oppos- 
ing her  wishes  too  stubbornly.  Now,  to-night,  my  going 
didn't  seem  right  to  her,  and  I  shall  not  get  it  out  of  my 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  9 

mind  that  she  is  waiting  up,  and  perhaps  fretting,  on  mj 
account." 

"  A  young  fellow  of  your  age  mustn't  be  so  tender,"  El 
wood  said.  "If  you  had  your  own  father  and  mother^ 
they'd  allow  you  more  of  a  range.  Look  at  me,  with  mine  ! 
Why,  I  never  as  much  as  say  '  by  your  leave.'  Quite  the 
contrary ;  so  long  as  the  work  isn't  slighted,  they're  rather 
glad  than  not  to  have  me  go  out ;  and  the  house  is  twice  aa 
lively  since  I  bring  so  much  fresh  gossip  into  it.  But  then, 
I've  had  a  rougher  bringing  up." 

"  I  wish  I  had  had  !  "  cried  Joseph.  "  Yet,  no,  when  I 
think  of  mother,  it  is  wrong  to  say  just  that.  What  1 
mean  is,  I  wish  I  could  take  things  as  easily  as  you, — make 
my  way  boldly  in  the  world,  without  being  held  back  by 
trifles,  or  getting  so  confused  with  all  sorts  of  doubts.  The 
more  anxious  I  am  to  do  right,  the  more  embarrassed  I  am  to 
know  what  is  the  right  thing.  I  don't  believe  you  have  any 
such  troubles." 

"  Well,  for  my  part,  I  do  about  as  other  fellows ;  no 
worse,  I  guess,  and  likely  no  better.  You  must  consider, 
also,  that  I'm  a  bit  rougher  made,  besides  the  bringing  up, 
and  that  makes  a  deal  of  difference.  I  don't  try  to  make 
the  scales  balance  to  a  grain ;  if  there's  a  handful  under  or 
over,  I  think  it's  near  enough.  However,  you'll  be  all  right 
in  a  while.  When  you  find  the  right  girl  and  marry  her, 
it'll  put  a  new  face  on  to  you.  There's  nothing  like  a  sharp, 
wide-awake  wife,  so  they  say,  to  set  a  man  straight.  Don't 
make  a  mountain  of  anxiety  out  of  a  little  molehill  of  inex- 
perience. I'd  take  all  your  doubts  and  more,  I'm  sure,  if  I 
could  get  such  a  two-hundred-acre  farm  with  them." 

"  Do  you  know,"  cried   Joseph  eagerly,   his  blue  eyea 

flashing  through  the  gathering  dusk,  "  I  have  often  thought 
1* 


10  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

very  nearly  the  same  thing  !  If  I  were  to  love, — if  I  wer« 
to  marry — " 

"  Hush  !  "  interrupted  Elwood  ;  "  I  know  you  don'i 
mean  others  to  hear  you.  Here  come  two  down  the 
branch  road." 

The  horsemen,  neighboring  farmers'  sons,  joined  them. 
They  rode  together  up  the  knoll  towards  the  Warriner 
mansion,  the  lights  of  which  glimmered  at  intervals  through 
the  trees.  The  gate  was  open,  and  a  dozen  vehicles  could 
be  seen  in  the  enclosure  between  the  house  and  barn.  Bright, 
gliding  forms  were  visible  on  the  portico. 

"Just  see,"  whispered  Elwood  to  Joseph  ;  "  what  a  lot  of 
posy-colors  !  You  may  be  sure  they're  every  one  watching 
us.  No  flinching,  mind ;  straight  to  the  charge !  We'll 
walk  up  together,  and  it  won't  be  half  as  hard  for  you." 


JOSEPH    A.ND    1118    FRIEND.  II 


CHAPTER  U 

HISS  BLESSING. 

To  Consider  the  evening  party  at  Warriner's  a  scene  ol 
4t  dissipation  " — as  some  of  the  good  old  people  of  the  neigh- 
borhood undoubtedly  did — was  about  as  absurd  as  to  call 
butter-milk  an  intoxicating  beverage.  Anything  more 
simple  arid  innocent  could  not  well  be  imagined.  The  very 
awkwardness  which  everybody  felt,  and  which  no  one  ex- 
actly knew  how  to  overcome,  testified  of  virtuous  ignorance. 
The  occasion  was  no  more  than  sufficed  for  the  barest  need 
of  human  nature.  Young  men  and  women  must  come  to- 
gether for  acquaintance  and  the  possibilities  of  love,  and, 
fortunately,  neither  labor  nor  the  severer  discipline  of  their 
elders  can  prevent  them. 

Where  social  recreation  thus  only  exists  under  discourag- 
ing conditions,  ease  and  grace  and  self-possession  cannot  be 
expected.  Had  there  been  more  form,  in  fact,  there  would 
have  been  more  ease.  A  conventional  disposition  of  the 
guests  would  have  reduced  the  loose  elements  of  the  com- 
pany to  some  sort  of  order ;  the  shy  country  nature  would 
have  taken  refuge  in  fixed  laws,  and  found  a  sense  of  free- 
dom therein.  But  there  were  no  generally  understood 
rules  :  the  young  people  \vere  brought  together,  delighted 
yet  uncomfortable,  craving  yet  shrinking  from  speech  and 
jest  iind  Ming,  and  painfully  \vorking  their  several  isola- 
tions into  a  \vanuer  common  atmosphere. 

On  this  occasion,  the  presence  of  a  stranger,  and  that 


12  JOSEPH   AUD   HIS   FRIEND. 

stranger  a  lady,  and  that  lady  a  visitor  from  the  city,  waa 
an  additional  restraint.  The  dread  of  a  critical  eye  is  most 
keenly  felt  by  those  who  secretly  acknowledge  their  own 
lack  of  social  accomplishment.  Anna  Warriner,  to  be  sure, 
had  been  loud  in  her  praises  of  "  dear  Julia,"  and  the  guests 
were  prepared  to  find  all  possible  beauty  and  sweetness ;  but 
they  expected,  none  the  less,  to  be  scrutinized  and  judged. 

Bob  Warriner  met  his  friends  at  the  gate  and  conducted 
them  to  the  parlor,  whither  the  young  ladies,  who  had  been 
watching  the  arrival,  had  retreated.  They  were  disposed 
along  the  walls,  silent  and  cool,  except  Miss  Blessing,  who 
occupied  a  rocking-chair  in  front  of  the  mantel-piece,  where 
her  figure  was  in  half-shadow,  the  lamplight  only  touching 
some  roses  in  her  hair.  As  the  gentlemen  were  presented, 
she  lifted  her  face  and  smiled  upon  each,  graciously  ottering 
a  slender  hand.  In  manner  and  attitude,  as  in  dress,  she 
seemed  a  different  being  from  the  plump,  ruddy,  self-con- 
scious girls  on  the  sofas.  Her  dark  hair  fell  about  her  neck 
in  long,  shining  ringlets ;  the  fairness  of  her  face  heightened 
the  brilliancy  of  her  eyes,  the  lids  of  which  were  slightly 
drooped  as  if  kindly  veiling  their  beams ;  and  her  lips,  although 
thin,  were  very  sweetly  and  delicately  curved.  Her  dress,  of 
some  white,  foamy  texture,  hung  about  her  like  a  trailing 
cloud,  and  the  cluster  of  rosebuds  on  her  bosom  lay  as  if 
tossed  there. 

The  young  men,  spruce  as  they  had  imagined  themselves 
to  be,  suddenly  felt  that  their  clothes  were  coarse  and  ill-fit- 
ting, and  that  the  girls  of  the  neighborhood,  in  their  neat 
gingham  and  muslin  dresses,  were  not  quite  so  airy  and 
charming  as  on  former  occasions.  Miss  Blessing,  descending 
to  them  out  of  an  unknown  higher  sphere,  made  their  defi- 
ciencies unwelcomely  evident ;  she  attracted  and  fascinated 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND.  13 

them,  yet  was  none  the  less  a  disturbing  influence.  They  made 
haste  to  find  seats,  after  which  a  constrained  silence  followed 

There  could  be  no  doubt  of-  Miss  Blessing's  amiable 
nature.  She  looked  about  with  a  pleasant  expression,  half 
smiled — but  deprecatingly,  as  if  to  say,  "  Pray,  don't  be 
offended  ! " — at  the  awkward  silence,  and  then  said,  in  a 
clear,  carefull}'  modulated  voice  :  "  It  is  beautiful  to  arrivo 
at  twilight,  but  how  charming  it  must  be  to  ride  home  in 
the  mooulight ;  so  different  from  our  lamps  ! " 

The  guests  looked  at  each  other,  but  as  she  had  seemed  to 
address  no  one  in  particular,  so  each  hesitated,  and  there 
was  no  immediate  reply. 

"But  is  it  not  awful,  tell  me,  Elizabeth,  when  you  get 
into  the  shadows  of  the  forests  ?  we  are  so  apt  to  associate  all 
sorts  of  unknown  dangers  with  forests,  you  know,"  she  con- 
tinued. 

The  young  lady  thus  singled  out  made  haste  to  answer : 
"  O,  no  !  I  rather  like  it,  when  I  have  company." 

El  wood  Withers  laughed.  "  To  be  sure ! "  he  exclaimed ; 
"  the  shade  is  full  of  opportunities." 

Then  there  were  little  shrieks,  and  some  giggling  and 
blushing.  Miss  Blessing  shook  her  fan  warningly  at  the 
speaker. 

"  Sow  wicked  in  you !  I  hope  you  will  have  to  ride 
home  alone  to-night,  after  that  speech.  But  you  are  all 
courageous,  compared  with  us.  We  are  really  so  restricted 
in  the  city,  that  it's  a  wonder  we  have  any  independence  at 
all.  In  many  ways,  we  are  like  children." 

a  O  Julia,  dear ! "  protested  Anna  Warriner,  "  and  such 
advantages  as  you  have  !  I  shall  never  forget  the  day  Mrs. 
Rockaway  called — her  husband's  cashier  of  the  Commercial 
Bank11  (this  was  said  in  a  parenthesis  to  the  other  guests) — 


I4c  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

u  and  brought  you  all  the  news  direct  from  head-quarters, 
as  she  said." 

"  Yes,"  Miss  Blessing  answered,  slowly,  casting  down  hei 
eyes,  "  there  must  be  two  sides  to  everything,  of  course ;  but 
how  much  we  miss  until  we  know  the  country  1  Really,  I 
quite  envy  you." 

Joseph  had  found  himself,  almost  before  he  knew  it,  in  a 
corner,  beside  Lucy  Henderson.  He  felt  soothed  and  happy, 
for  of  all  the  girls  present  he  liked  Lucy  best.  In  the  few 
meetings  of  the  young  people  which  he  had  attended,  he  had 
been  drawn  towards  her  by  an  instinct  founded,  perhaps,  on 
his  shyness  and  the  consciousness  of  it ;  for  she  alone  had 
the  power,  by  a  few  kindly,  simple  words,  to  set  him  at  ease 
with  himself.  The  straightforward  glance  of  her  large  brown 
eyes  seemed  to  reach  the  self  below  the  troubled  surface. 
However  much  his  ears  might  have  tingled  afterwards,  as 
he  recalled  how  frankly  and  freely  he  had  talked  with  her, 
he  could  only  remember  the  expression  of  an  interest  equally 
frank,  upon  her  face.  She  never  dropped  one  of  those 
amused  side-glances,  or  uttered  one  of  those  pert,  satirical 
remarks,  the  recollection  of  which  in  other  girls  stung  him 
to  the  quick. 

Their  conversation  was  interrupted,  for  when  Miss  Bless- 
ing spoke,  the  others  became  silent.  What  Elwood  Withers 
bad  said  of  the  phenomena  of  love,  however,  lingered  in 
J  oseph's  mind,  and  he  began,  involuntarily,  to  examine  the 
nature  of  his  feeling  for  Lucy  Henderson.  Was  she  not 
often  in  his  thoughts  ?  He  had  never  before  asked  himself 
the  question,  but  now  he  suddenly  became  conscious  that 
the  hope  of  meeting  her,  rather  than  any  curiosity  concern- 
ing Miss  Blessing,  had  drawn  him  to  Warriner's.  Would 
he  rather  touch  the  edge  of  her  dress  than  kiss  anybody  else  i 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  15 

That  question  drew  his  eyes  to  her  lips,  and  with  a  soft 
shock  of  the  heart,  he  became  aware  of  their  freshness  and 
sweetness  as  never  before.  To  touch  the  edge  of  her  dress! 
Elwood  had  said  nothing  of  the  lovelier  and  bolder  desire 
which  brought  the  blood  swiftly  to  his  cheeks.  He  could 
not  help  it  that  their  glances  met, — a  moment  only,  but  an 
unmeasured  time  of  delight  and  fear  to  him, — and  then  Lucy 
quickly  turned  away  her  head.  He  fancied  there  was  a 
heightened  color  on  her  face,  but  when  she  spoke  to  him  a 
few  minutes  afterwards  it  was  gone,  and  she  was  as  calm 
and  compose  j  as  before. 

In  the  mean  time  there  had  been  other  arrivals ;  and 
Joseph  was  presently  called  upon  to  give  up  his  place  to 
some  ladies  from  the  neighboring  town.  Many  invitations 
had  been  issued,  and  the  capacity  of  the  parlor  was  soon  ex- 
hausted. Then  the  sounds  of  merry  chat  on  the  portico 
invaded  the  stately  constraint  of  the  room ;  and  Miss  Bless- 
ing, rising  gracefully  and  not  too  rapidly,  laid  her  hands  to- 
gether and  entreated  Anna  Wai-riner, — 

"  O,  do  let  us  go  outside  !  I  think  we  are  well  enough 
acquainted  now  to  sit  on  the  steps  together." 

She  made  a  gesture,  slight  but  irresistibly  inviting,  and 
all  arose.  While  they  were  cheerfully  pressing  out  through 
the  hall,  she  seized  Anna's  arm  and  drew  her  back  into  the 
dusky  nook  under  the  staircase. 

"  Quick,  Anna ! "  she  whispered  ;  "  who  is  the  roguish 
one  they  call  Elwood  ?  What  is  he  ?  " 

"  A  farmer ;  works  his  father's  place  on  shares." 

"  Ah  ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Blessing,  in  a  peculiar  tone ; 
"  and  the  blue-eyed,  handsome  one,  who  came  in  with  him  ? 
He  looks  almost  like  a  boy." 

"  Joseph  Asten  ?     Why,  he's  twerty-two  or  three.     H« 


16  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FETENP 

has  one  of  the  finest  properties  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
money  besides,  they  say ;  lives  alone,  with  an  old  dragon  of 
an  aunt  as  housekeeper.  Now,  Julia  dear,  there's  a  chance 
for  you  ! " 

u  Pshaw,  you  silly  Anna  1 "  whispered  Miss  Blessing, 
playfully  pinching  her  ear  ;  "  you  know  I  prefer  intellect  to 
wealth." 

"  As  for  that" — Anna  began,  but  her  friend  was  already 
dancing  down  the  hall  towards  the  front  door,  her  gossamer 
skirts  puffing  and  floating  out  until  they  brushed  the  walls 
on  either  side.  She  hummed  to  herself,  "  O  Night !  O  lovely 
Night ! "  from  the  Desert,  skimmed  over  the  doorstep,  and 
sank,  subsiding  into  an  ethereal  heap,  against  one  of  the  pil- 
lars of  the  portico.  Her  eyelids  were  now  fully  opened,  and 
the  pupils,  the  color  of  which  could  not  be  distinguished  in 
the  moonlight,  seemed  wonderfully  clear  and  brilliant. 

"  Now,  Mr.  El  wood — O,  excuse  me,  I  mean  Mr.  Withers," 
she  began,  "  you  must  repeat  your  joke  for  my  benefit.  I 
missed  it,  and  I  feel  so  foolish  when  I  can't  laugh  with  the 
rest." 

Anna  Warriner,  standing  in  the  door,  opened  her  eyes 
very  wide  at  what  seemed  to  her  to  be  the  commencement 
of  a  flirtation ;  but  before  El  wood  Withers  could  repeat  his 
rather  stupid  fun,  she  was  summoned  to  the  kitchen  by  her 
mother,  to  superintend  the  preparation  of  the  refreshments. 

Miss  Blessing  made  her  hay  while  the  moon  shone.  She 
so  entered  into  the  growing  spirit  of  the  scene  and  accom- 
modated herself  to  the  speech  and  ways  of  the  guests,  that 
in  half  an  hour  it  seemed  as  if  they  had  always  known  her. 
She  laughed  with  their  merriment,  and  flattered  their  senti- 
ment with  a  tender  ballad  or  two,  given  in  a  veiled  but  not 
unpleasant  voice,  and  constantly  appealed  to  their  good 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FKIEND.  17 

nature  by  the  phrase :  "  Pray,  don't  mind  me  at  all ;  Fm 
like  a  child  let  out  of  school ! "  She  tapped  Elizabeth  Fogg 
on  the  shoulder,  stealthily  tickled  Jane  McNaughtor.'s  neck 
with  a  grass-blade,  and  took  the  roses  from  her  hair  to  stick 
into  the  buttonholes  of  the  young  men. 

"  Just  see  Julia  ! "  whispered  Anna  Warriner  to  her  half- 
dozen  intimates ;  "  didn't  I  tell  you  she  was  the  life  ot 
society  ?  " 

Joseph  had  quite  lost  his  uncomfortable  sense  of  being 
watched  and  criticized ;  he  enjoyed  the  unrestraint  of  the 
hour  as  much  as  the  rest.  He  was  rather  relieved  to  notice 
that  El  wood  Withers  seemed  uneasy,  and  almost  willing  to 
escape  from  the  lively  circle  around  Miss  Blessing.  By  and 
by  the  company  broke  into  smaller  groups,  and  Joseph  again 
found  himself  near  the  pale  pink  dress  which  he  knew. 
What  was  it  that  separated  him  from  her  ?  What  had 
slipped  between  them  during  the  evening  ?  Nothing,  ap- 
parently ;  for  Lucy  Henderson,  perceiving  him,  quietly 
moved  nearer.  He  advanced  a  step,  and  they  were  side  by 
side. 

"  Do  you  enjoy  these  meetings,  Joseph?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  think  I  shoiild  enjoy  everything,"  he  answered,  "if  1 
were  a  little  older,  or —  or —  " 

"  Or  more  accustomed  to  society  ?  Is  not  that  what  you 
meant  ?  It  is  only  another  kind  of  schooling,  which  we 
must  all  have.  You  and  I  are  in  the  lowest  class,  as  we 
once  were, — do  you  remember?  " 

"  I  don't  know  why,"  said  he,  "  — but  I  must  be  a  poor 
scholar.  See  Elwood,  for  instance  !  " 

"  Elwood  !  "  Lucy  slowly  repeated  ;  "  he  is  another  kind 
of  naturo,  altogether." 

Tlioro  was  a  moment's  silence.    Joseph  was  about  to  spoak 


18  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

when  something  wonderfully  soft  touched  his  cheek,  and  a 
delicate,  violet-like  odor  swept  upon  his  senses.  A  low,  mu 
sical  laugh  sounded  at  his  very  ear. 

"There!  Did  I  frighten  you?"  said  Miss  Blessing. 
She  had  stolen  behind  him,  and,  standing  on  tiptoe,  reached 
a  light  arm  over  his  shoulder,  to  fasten  her  last  rosebud  in 
the  upper  buttonhole  of  his  coat. 

"  I  quite  overlooked  you,  Mr.  Asten,"  she  continued. 
"  Please  turn  a  little  towards  me.  Now  1 — has  it  not  a 
charming  effect  ?  I  do  like  to  see  some  kind  of  ornament 
about  the  gentlemen,  Lucy.  And  since  they  can't  wear 
anything  in  their  hair, — but,  tell  me,  wouldn't  a  wreath  of 
flowers  look  well  on  Mr.  Asten's  head  ?  " 

"  I  can't  very  well  imagine  such  a  thing,"  said  Lucy. 

"  No  ?  Well,  perhaps  I  am  foolish  :  but  when  one  has  es 
caped  from  the  tiresome  conventionalities  of  city  life,  and 
comes  back  to  nature,  and  delightful  natural  society,  one 
feels  so  free  to  talk  and  think  !  Ah,  you  don't  know  what 
a  luxury  it  is,  just  to  be  one's  true  self !  " 

Joseph's  eyes  lighted  up,  and  he  turned  towards  Miss 
Blessing,  as  if  eager  that  she  should  continue  to  speak. 

"  Lucy,"  said  Elwood  Withers,  approaching ;  "  you  came 
with  the  McNaughtons,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes :  are  they  going  ?  " 

"  They  are  talking  of  it  now ;  but  the  hour  is  early,  and 
if  you  don't  mind  riding  on  a  pillion,  you  know  my  horse 
is  gentle  and  strong —  " 

"  That's  right.  Mr.  Withers  ! "  interrupted  Miss  Blessing. 
u  I  depend  upon  you  to  keep  Lucy  with  us.  The  night  is  at 
its  loveliest,  and  we  are  all  just  fairly  enjoying  each  other's  so- 
ciety. As  I  was  saying,  Mr.  Asten,  you  cannot  conceive  what 
anew  world  this  is  to  me:  oh?  ]  begin  to  breathe  at  last!* 


JOSEPH    AXB    HIS   FRIEND.  19 

Therewith  she  drew  a  long,  soft  inspiration,  and  gently 
txhaled  it  again,  ending  with  a  little  flutter  of  the  breath, 
which  made  it  seem  like  a  sigh.  A  light  laugh  followed. 

"  I  know,  without  looking  at  your  face,  that  you  are  smil- 
ing at  me,"  said  she.  "  But  you  have  never  experienced 
what  it  is  to  be  shy  and  uneasy  in  company ;  to  feel  that 
you  are  expected  to  talk,  and  not  know  what  to  say,  and 
when  you  do  say  something,  to  be  startled  at  the  sound  of 
your  voice  ;  to  stand,  or  walk,  or  sit,  and  imagine  that  every- 
body is  watching  you  ;  to  be  introduced  to  strangers,  and  be 
as  awkward  as  if  both  spoke  different  languages,  and  were 
unable  to  exchange  a  single  thought.  Here,  iu  the  coun- 
try, you  experience  nothing  of  all  this." 

"  Indeed,  Miss  Blessing,"  Joseph  replied,  "  it  is  just  the 
same  to  us — to  me — as  city  society  is  to  you." 

"How  glad  I  am  !  "  she  exclaimed,  clasping  her  hands. 
"  It  is  very  selfish  in  me  to  say  it,  but  I  can't  help  being  sincere 
towards  the  Sincere.  I  shall  now  feel  ever  so  much  more 
freedom  in  talking  with  you,  Mr.  Asten,  since  we  have  one 
experience  in  common.  Don't  you  think,  if  we  all  knew 
each  other's  natures  truly,  we  should  be  a  great  deal  more 
at  ease, — and  consequently  happier  ?  " 

She  spoke  the  last  sentence  in  a  low,  sweet,  penetrating 
tone,  lifted  her  face  to  meet  his  gaze  a  moment,  the  eyes 
large,  clear,  and  appealing  in  their  expression,  the  lips  part- 
ed like  those  of  a  child,  and  then,  without  waiting  for  his 
answer,  s\iddenly  darted  away,  crying,  "  Yes,  Anna  dear ! " 

"  What  is  it,  Julia  ?  "  Anna  Warriner  asked. 

"  O,  didn't  you  call  me  ?  Somebody  surely  called  some 
Julia,  and  I'm  the  only  one,  am  I  not  ?  I've  just  arranged 
Mr.  Asten's  rosebud  so  prettily,  and  now  all  the  gentlemen 
are  decorated.  I'm  afraid  they  think  I  take  great  libertiei 


20  JOSEPH   AND    ins   FRIEND. 

for  a  stranger,  but  then,  you  all  make  me  forget  that  I  am 
strange.  Why  is  it  that  everybody  is  so  good  to  me  ?  " 

She  turned  her  face  upon  the  others  with  a  radiant  ex- 
pression. Then  there  were  earnest  protestations  from  the 
young  men,  and  a  few  impulsive  hugs  from  the  girls,  which 
latter  Miss  Blessing  returned  with  kisses. 

Elwood  Withers  sat  beside  Lucy  Henderson,  on  the  steps  of 
the  portico.  "  Why,  we  owe  it  to  you  that  we're  here  to-night, 
Miss  Blessing  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  We  don't  come  together 
half  often  enough  as  it  is ;  and  what  better  could  we  do  than 
meet  again,  somewhere  else,  while  you  are  in  the  country?" 

"  O,  how  delightful !  how  kind  ! ''  she  cried.  "  And  while 
the  lovely  moonlight  lasts !  Shall  I  really  have  another 
evening  like  this  ?  " 

The  proposition  was  heartily  seconded,  and  the  only  diffi- 
culty was,  how  to  choose  between  the  three  or  four  invita- 
tions which  were  at  once  proffered.  There  was  nothing  bet- 
ter to  do  than  to  accept  all,  in  turn,  and  the  young  people 
pledged  themselves  to  attend.  The  new  element  which  they 
had  dreaded  in  advance,  as  a  restraint,  had  shown  itself  to 
be  the  reverse :  they  had  never  been  so  free,  so  cheerfully 
excited.  Miss  Blessing's  unconscious  ease  of  manner,  her 
grace  and  sweetness,  her  quick,  bright  sympathy  with  coun- 
try ways,  had  so  warmed  and  fused  them,  that  they  lost  the 
remembrance  of  their  stubborn  selves  and  yielded  to  the 
magnetism  of  the  hour.  Their  manners,  moreover,  were 
greatly  improved,  simply  by  their  forgetting  that  they  were 
expected  to  have  any. 

Joseph  was  one  of  the  happiest  sharers  in  this  uuaugc. 
He  eagerly  gave  his  word  to  be  present  at  the  entertainments 
to  come  :  his  heart  beat  with  delight  at  the  prospect  of  other 
luch  evenings.  The  suspicion  of  a  tenderer  feeling  towards 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  21 

Lucy  Henderson,  the  charm  of  Miss  Blessing's  winning 
frankness,  took  equal  possession  of  his  thoughts;  and  not 
until  he  had  said  good  night  did  he  think  of  his  companion 
on  the  homeward  road.  But  Elwood  Withers  had  already 
left,  carrying  Lucy  Henderson  on  a  pillion  behind  him. 

"  Is  it  ten  o'clock,  do  you  think  ?  "  Joseph  asked  of  one 
of  the  young  men,  as  they  rode  out  of  the  gate. 

The  other  answered  with  a  chuckle :  "  Ten  ?  It's  nigher 
morning  than  evening ! " 

The  imp  on  the  crupper  struck  his  claws  deep  into  Joseph's 
sides.  He  urged  his  horse  into  a  gallop,  crossed  the  long 
rise  in  the  road  and  dashed  along  the  valley-level,  with  the 
cool,  dewy  night  air  whistling  in  his  locks.  After  entering 
the  lane  leading  upward  to  his  home,  he  dropped  the  reins 
and  allowed  the  panting  horse  to  choose  his  own  gait.  A 
light,  sparkling  through  the  locust-trees,  pierced  Him  with  the 
sting  of  an  unwelcome  external  conscience,  in  which  he  had 
no  part,  yet  which  he  could  not  escape. 

Rachel  Miller  looked  wearily  up  from  her  knitting  as  he 
entered  the  room.  She  made  a  feeble  attempt  to  smile,  but 
the  expression  of  her  face  suggested  imminent  tears. 

"  Aunt,  why  did  you  wait  ?  "  said  he,  speaking  rapidly. 
"  I  forgot  to  look  at  my  watch,  and  I  really  thought  it  was 
no  more  than  ten — " 

He  paused,  seeing  that  her  eyes  were  fixed.  She  was 
looking  at  the  tall  old-fashioned  clock.  The  hand  pointed 
to  half-past  twelve,  and  every  cluck  of  the  ponderous  pen- 
dulum said,  distinctly,  "  Late !  late  !  late ! " 

fle  lighted  a  candle  in  silence,  said,  "  Good  night,  Aunt !  " 
and  went  up  to  his  room. 

"  Good  night,  Joseph  !  "  she  solemnly  responded,  and  • 
deep,  hollow  sigh  reached  his  ear  before  the  door  was  closed 


2*2  JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FKIKND. 


CHAPTER 

THE  PLACE   AND   PEOPLE. 

JOSEPH  ASTEN'S  nature  was  shy  and  sensitive,  but  not 
merely  from  a  habit  of  introversion.  He  saw  no  deeper  into 
himself,  in  fact,  than  his  moods  and  sensations,  and  thus 
quite  failed  to  recognize  what  it  was  that  kept  him  apart 
from  the  society  in  which  he  should  have  freely  moved.  He 
felt  the  difference  of  others,  and  constantly  probed  the  pain 
and  embarrassment  it  gave  him,  but  the  sources  wherefrom 
it  grew  were  the  last  which  he  would  have  guessed. 

A  boy's  life  may  be  weakened  for  growth,  in  all  its  fibres, 
by  the  watchfulness  of  a  too  anxious  love,  and  the  guidance 
of  a  too  exquisitely  nurtured  conscience.  He  may  be  no 
trained  in  the  habits  of  goodness,  and  purity,  and  duty,  that 
every  contact  with  the  world  is  like  an  abrasion  upon  the 
delicate  surface  of  his  soul.  Every  wind  visits  him  too 
roughly,  and  he  shrinks  from  the  encounters  which  brace 
true  manliness,  and  strengthen  it  for  the  exercise  of  good. 

The  rigid  piety  of  Joseph's  mother  was  warmed  and 
softened  by  her  tenderness  towards  him,  and  he  never  felt  it 
as  a  yoke.  His  nature  instinctively  took  the  imprint  of 
hers,  and  she  was  happy  in  seeing  so  clear  a  reflection  of 
herself  in  his  innocent  young  heart.  She  piolonged  his 
childhood,  perhaps  without  intending  it,  into  the  years  when 
the  unrest  of  approaching  manhood  should  have  led  him  to 
severer  studies  and  lustier  sports.  Her  death  transferred 
his  guardianship  to  other  hands,  but  did  not  change  its 


JOSEPH   AND    HIS   FRIEND.  23 

character.  Her  sistor  Rachel  was  equally  good  and  con 
scientious,  possibly  with  an  equal  capacity  for  tenderness, 
but  her  barren  life  had  restrained  the  habit  of  its  expression. 
Joseph  could  not  but  confess  that  she  was  guided  by  the 
strictest  sense  of  duty,  but  she  seemed  to  him  cold,  severe, 
unsympathetic.  There  were  times  when  the  alternative 
presented  itself  to  his  mind,  of  either  allowing  her  absolute 
control  of  all  his  actions,  or  wounding  her  to  the  heart  by  as- 
serting a  moderate  amount  of  independence. 

He  was  called  fortunate,  but  it  was  impossible  for  him 
consciously  to  feel  his  fortune.  The  two  hundred  acres  of 
the  farm,  stretching  back  over  the  softly  swelling  hills  which 
enclosed  the  valley  on  the  east,  were  as  excellent  soil  as  the 
neighborhood  knew ;  the  stock  was  plentiful ;  the  house, 
barn,  and  all  the  appointments  of  the  place  were  in  the  best 
order,  and  he  was  the  sole  owner  of  all.  The  work  of  his 
own  hands  was  not  needed,  but  it  was  a  mechanical  exhaus. 
tion  of  time, — an  enforced  occupation  of  body  and  mind, 
which  he  followed  in  the  vague  hope  that  some  richer  de 
velopment  of  life  might  come  afterwards.  But  there  wer« 
times  when  the  fields  looked  very  dreary, — when  the  trees, 
rooted  in  their  places,  and  growing  under  conditions  which 
they  were  powerless  to  choose  or  change,  were  but  tiresome 
types  of  himself, — when  even  the  beckoning  heights  far  down 
the  valley  failed  to  touch  his  fancy  with  the  hint  of  a 
broader  world.  Duty  said  to  him,  "  You  must  be  perfectly 
contented  in  your  place  !  "  but  there  was  the  miserable,  un- 
grateful, inexplicable  fact  of  discontent. 

Furthermore,  he  had  by  this  time  discovered  that  certain 
tastes  which  he  possessed  were  so  many  weaknesses — if  not, 
indeed,  matters  of  reproach — in  the  eyes  of  his  neighbors. 
Die  delight  and  the  torture  of  finer  nerves — an  inability  to 


24  JOSEPH    AOT>    HIS   FRIEND. 

use  coarse  and  strong  phrases,  and  a  shrinking  from  all  di» 
play  of  rude  manners — were  peculiarities  which  he  could  not 
overcome,  and  must  endeavor  to  conceal.  There  were  men 
of  sturdy  intelligence  in  the  community  ;  but  none  of  refined 
culture,  through  whom  he  might  have  measured  and  under- 
stood himself;  and  the  very  qualities,  therefore,  which 
should  have  been  his  pride,  gave  him  only  a  sense  of  shame. 

Two  memories  haunted  him,  after  the  evening  at  Warri- 
ner's ;  and,  though  so  different,  they  were  not  to  be  discon- 
nected. No  two  girls  could  be  more  unlike  than  Lucy 
Henderson  and  Miss  Julia  Blessing;  he  had  known  one  for 
years,  and  the  other  was  the  partial  acquaintance  of  an  even- 
ing ;  yet  the  image  of  either  one  was  swiftly  followed  by 
that  of  the  other.  When  he  thought  of  Lucy's  eyes,  Misa 
Julia's  hand  stole  over  his  shoulder ;  when  he  recalled  the 
glossy  ringlets  of  the  latter,  he  saw,  beside  them,  the  faintly 
flushed  cheek  and  the  pure,  sweet  mouth  which  had  awa- 
kened in  him  his  first  daring  desire. 

Phantoms  as  they  were,  they  seemed  to  have  taken  equal 
possession  of  the  house,  the  garden,  and  the  fields.  While 
Lucy  sat  quietly  by  the  window,  Miss  Julia  skipped  lightly 
along  the  adjoining  hall.  One  lifted  a  fallen  rose-branch  on 
the  lawn,  the  other  snatched  the  reddest  blossom  from  it. 
One  leaned  against  the  trunk  of  the  old  hemlock-tree,  the 
other  fluttered  in  and  out  among  the  clumps  of  shrubbery  ; 
but  the  lonely  green  was  wonderfully  brightened  by  these 
visions  of  pink  and  white,  and  Joseph  enjoyed  the  fancy 
without  troubling  himself  to  think  what  it  meant. 

The  house  was  seated  upon  a  gentle  knoll,  near  the  head 
of  a  side-valley  sunk  like  a  dimple  among  the  hills  which  en- 
closed the  river-meadows,  scarcely  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 
It  was  nearly  a  hundred  years  old,  and  its  massive  walla 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  25 

were  faced  with  checkered  bricks,  alternately  red  and  black, 
to  which  the  ivy  clung  with  tenacious  feet  wherever  it  was 
allowed  to  run.  The  gables  terminated  in  broad  double 
chimneys,  between  which  a  railed  walk,  intended  for  a  look- 
out, but  rarely  vised  for  that  or  any  other  purpose,  rested  on 
the  peak  of  the  roof.  A  low  portico  paved  with  stone  ex- 
tended along  the  front,  which  was  further  shaded  by  two 
enormous  sycamore-trees  as  old  as  the  house  itself.  The 
evergreens  and  ornamental  shrubs  which  occupied  the  re- 
mainder of  the  little  lawn  denoted  the  taste  of  a  later  gener- 
ation. To  the  east,  an  open  turfy  space,  in  the  centre  of 
which  stood  a  superb  weeping-willow,  divided  the  house 
from  the  great  stone  barn  with  its  flanking  cribs  and  "  over- 
shoots ; "  on  the  opposite  side  lay  the  sunny  garden,  with 
gnarled  grape-vines  clambering  along  its  walls,  and  a  double 
row  of  tall  old  box-b\ishes,  each  grown  into  a  single  solid 
mass,  stretching  down  the  centre. 

The  fields  belonging  to  the  property,  softly  rising  and 
following  the  undulations  of  the  hills,  limited  the  landscape 
on  three  sides ;  but  on  the  south  there  was  a  fair  view  of  the 
valley  of  the  larger  stream,  with  its  herd-speckled  meadows, 
glimpses  of  water  between  the  fringing  trees,  and  farm-houses 
sheltered  among  the  knees  of  the  farther  hills.  It  was  a  re- 
gion of  peace  and  repose  and  quiet,  drowsy  beauty,  and 
there  were  few  farms  which  were  not  the  ancestral  homes  of 
the  families  who  held  them.  The  people  were  satisfied,  for 
they  lived  upon  a  bountiful  soil ;  and  if  but  few  were  notably 
rich,  still  fewer  were  absolutely  poor.  They  had  a  sluggish 
sense  of  content,  a  half-conscious  feeling  that  their  linea 
were  cast  in  pleasant  places  ;  they  were  orderly,  moral,  and 
generally  honest,  and  their  own  types  were  so  constantly  re- 
produced and  fixed,  both  by  intermarriage  and  intercourse, 
2 


26  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

that  any  variation  therein  was  a  thing  to  be  suppressed  if 
possible.  Any  sign  of  an  unusual  taste,  or  a  different  view 
of  life,  excited  their  suspicion,  and  the  most  of  them  were 
incapable  of  discriminating  between  independent  thought  on 
moral  and  social  questions,  and  "  free-thinking  "  in  the  reli- 
gious significance  which  they  attached  to  the  word.  Politi- 
cal excitements,  it  is  true,  sometimes  swept  over  the  neigh- 
borhood, but  in  a  mitigated  form ;  and  the  discussions  which 
then  took  place  between  neighbors  of  opposite  faith  were 
generally  repetitions  of  the  arguments  furnished  by  their  re 
spective  county  papers. 

To  one  whose  twofold  nature  conformed  to  the  common 
mould, — into  whom,  before  his  birth,  no  mysterious  ele 
ment  had  been  infused,  to  be  the  basis  of  new  sensations, 
desires,  and  powers, — the  region  was  a  paradise  of  peaceful 
days.  Even  as  a  boy  the  probable  map  of  his  life  was 
drawn :  he  could  behold  himself  as  young  man,  as  husband, 
father,  and  comfortable  old  man,  by  simply  looking  upon 
these  various  stages  in  others. 

If,  however,  his  senses  were  not  sluggish,  but  keen ;  if 
his  nature  reached  beyond  the  ordinary  necessities,  and 
hungered  for  the  taste  of  higher  things;  if  he  longed  to 
ghare  in  that  life  of  the  world,  the  least  part  of  which  was 
known  to  his  native  community ;  if,  not  content  to  accept 
the  mechanical  faith  of  passive  minds,  he  dared  to  repeat 
the  long  struggle  of  the  human  race  in  his  own  spiritual  and 
mental  growth ;  then, — why,  then,  the  region  was  not  a 
paradise  of  peaceful  days. 

.Rachel  Miller,  now  that  the  dangerous  evening  was  over, 
was  shrewd  enough  to  resume  her  habitual  manner  towards 
her  nephew.  Her  curiosity  to  know  what  had  been  done, 
and  how  Joseph  hal  been  affected  by  the  merry-making, 


JOSEPH    AND    HI8   FRIEND.  27 

rendered  her  careful  not  to  frighten  him  from  the  subject  bj 
warnings  or  reproaches.  He  was  frank  and  communicative, 
and  Rachel  found,  to  her  surprise,  that  the  evening  at  War- 
riner's  was  much,  and  not  wholly  unpleasantly,  in  her 
thoughts  during  her  knitting-hours.  The  farm-work  was 
briskly  forwarded ;  Joseph  was  active  in  the  field,  and  deci- 
iedly  brighter  in  the  house ;  and  when  he  announced  the 
new  engagement,  with  an  air  which  hinted  that  his  attend- 
ance was  a  matter  of  course,  she  was  only  able  to  say  : — 

"  I'm  very  much  mistaken  if  tliatfs  the  end.  Get  agoing 
once,  and  there's  no  telling  where  you'll  fetch  up.  I  sup- 
pose that  town's  girl  won't  stay  much  longer, — the  farm- 
work  of  the  neighborhood  couldn't  stand  it, — and  so  she 
means  to  have  all  she  can  while  her  visit  lasts." 

"  Indeed,  Aunt,"  Joseph  protested,  "  Elwood  Withers 
first  proposed  it,  and  the  others  all  agreed." 

"  And  ready  enough  they  were,  I'll  be  bound." 

"  Yes,  they  were,"  Joseph  replied,  with  a  little  more  firm- 
ness than  usual.  "  All  of  them.  And  there  was  no  re- 
spectable family  in  the  neighborhood  that  wasn't  repre- 
sented." 

Rachel  made  an  effort  and  kept  silence.  The  innovation 
might  be  temporary,  and  in  that  case  it  were  prudent  to 
take  no  further  notice ;  or  it  might  be  the  beginning  of  a 
change  in  the  ways  of  the  young  people,  and  if  so,  she 
needed  further  knowledge  in  order  to  work  successfully 
against  it  in  Joseph's  case. 

She  little  suspected  how  swiftly  and  closely  the  question 
would  be  brought  to  her  own  door. 

A  week  afterwards  the  second  of  the  evening  parties  was 
held,  and  was  even  more  successful  than  the  first.  Every- 
body was  there,  bringing  a  cheerful  memory  of  the  former 


28  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

occasion,  and  Miss  Julia.  Blessing,  no  longer  dreaded  as  an 
unknown  scrutinizing  element,  was  again  the  life  and  soul 
of  the  company.  It  was  astonishing  how  correctly  she  re- 
tained the  names  and  characteristics  of  all  those  whom  she 
had  already  met,  and  how  intelligently  she  seemed  to  enjoy 
the  gossip  of  the  neighborhood.  It  was  remarked  that  her 
dress  was  studiously  simple,  as  if  to  conform  to  country 
ways,  yet  the  airy,  graceful  freedom  of  her  manner  gave  it  a 
character  of  elegance  which  sufficiently  distinguished  her 
from  the  other  girls. 

Joseph  felt  that  she  looked  to  him,  as  by  an  innocent 
natural  instinct,  for  a  more  delicate  and  intimate  recogni- 
tion than  she  expected  to  find  elsewhere.  Fragments  of 
sentences,  parenthetical  expressions,  dropped  in  her  lively 
talk,  were  always  followed  by  a  quick  glance  which  said  to 
him :  "  We  have  one  feeling  in  common  ;  I  know  that  you, 
understand  me."  He  was  fascinated,  but  the  experience 
was  so  new  that  it  was  rather  bewildering.  He  was  drawn 
to  catch  her  seemingly  random  looks, — to  wait  for  them, 
and  then  shrink  timidly  when  they  came,  feeling  all  the 
while  the  desire  to  be  in  the  quiet  corner,  outside  the  merry 
circle  of  talkers,  where  sat  Lucy  Henderson. 

When,  at  last,  a  change  in  the  diversions  of  the  evening 
brought  him  to  Lucy's  side,  she  seemed  to  him  grave  and 
preoccupied.  Her  words  lacked  the  pleasant  directness  and 
self-possession  which  had  made  her  society  so  comfortable  to 
him.  She  no  longer  turned  her  full  face  towards  him  while 
speaking,  and  he  noticed  that  her  eyes  were  wandering  over 
the  company  with  a  peculiar  expression,  as  if  she  were  try- 
ing to  listen  with  them.  It  seemed  to  him,  also,  that  El- 
wood  Withers,  who  was  restlessly  moving  about  the  room, 
was  watching  some  one,  or  waiting  for  something. 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  29 

"  I  have  it !  "  suddenly  cried  Miss  Blessing,  floating  to- 
wards Joseph  and  Lucy  ;  "  it  shall  be  you,  Mr.  Asten  !  " 

"  Yes,"  echoed  Anna  Warriner,  following :  "  if  it  could 
be,  how  delightful !  " 

"  Hush,  Anna  dear !  Let  us  keep  the  matter  secret!*' 
whispered  Miss  Blessing,  assuming  a  mysterious  air ;  "  we 
will  slip  away  and  consult ;  and,  of  course,  Lucy  must  come 
with  us." 

"  Now,"  she  resumed,  when  the  four  found  themselves 
alone  in  the  old-fashioned  dining-room,  "  we  must,  first  of 
all,  explain  everything  to  Mr.  Asten.  The  question  is, 
where  we  shall  meet,  next  week.  McNaughtons  are  build- 
ing an  addition  (I  believe  you  call  it)  to  their  barn,  and  a 
child  has  the  measles  at  another  place,  and  something  else  is 
wrong  so.newhere  else.  We  cannot  interfere  with  the 
course  of  nature ;  but  neither  should  we  give  up  these 
charming  evenings  without  making  an  effort  to  continue 
them.  Our  sole  hope  and  reliance  is  on  you,  Mr.  Asten." 

She  pronounced  the  words  with  a  mock  solemnity,  clasp- 
ing her  hands,  and  looking  into  his  face  with  bright,  eager, 
laughing  eyes. 

"  If  it  depended  on  myself — "  Joseph  began. 

"  O,  I  know  the  difficulty,  Mr.  Asten !  "  she  exclaimed  ; 
"and  really,  it's  unpardonable  in  me  to  propose  such  a  thing. 
But  isn't  it  possible — just  possible — that  Miss  Miller  might 
be  persuaded  by  us  ?  " 

"  Julia  dear  !  "  cried  Anna  Warriner,  **  I  believe  there's 
nothing  you'd  be  afraid  to  undertake." 

Joseph  scarcely  knew  what  to  say.  He  looked  from  one 
to  the  other,  coloring  slightly,  and  ready  to  turn  pale  the 
next  moment,  as  he  endeavored  to  imagine  how  his  aunt 
would  receive  such  an  astounding  proposition. 


80  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FBEEND. 

"Th?re  is  no  reason  why  she  should  be  asked,"  said 
Lucy.  "  It  would  be  a  great  annoyance  to  her." 

"Indeed?"  said  Miss  Blessing;  "then  I  should  be  so 
sorry !  But  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  your  lovely  place  the 
other  day  as  we  were  driving  up  the  valley.  It  was  a  per- 
fect picture, — and  I  have  such  a  desire  to  see  it  nearer  I  " 

"  Why  will  you  not  come,  then  ?  "  Joseph  eagerly  asked. 
Lucy's  words  seemed  to  him  blunt  and  unfriendly,  although 
he  knew  they  had  been  intended  for  his  relief. 

"It  would  be  a  great  pleasure;  yet,  if  I  thought  your 
aunt  would  be  annoyed — " 

"  I  am  sure  she  will  be  glad  to  make  your  acquaintance," 
said  Joseph,  with  a  reproachful  side-glance  at  Lucy. 

Miss  Blessing  noticed  the  glance.  "  Zam  more  sure,"  she 
said,  playfully,  "  that  she  will  be  very  much  amused  at  my 
ignorance  and  inexperience.  And  I  don't  believe  Lucy 
meant  to  frighten  me.  As  for  the  party,  we  won't  think  of 
that  now ;  but  you  will  go  with  us,  Lucy,  won't  you, — with 
Anna  and  myself,  to  make  a  neighborly  afternoon  call  ?  " 

Lucy  felt  obliged  to  accede  to  a  request  so  amiably  made, 
after  her  apparent  rudeness.  Yet  she  coxild  not  force  her- 
self to  affect  a  hearty  acquiescence,  and  Joseph  thought  her 
singularly  cold. 

He  did  not  doubt  but  that  Miss  Blessing,  whose  warm, 
impulsive  nature  seemed  to  him  very  much  what  his  own 
might  be  if  he  dared  to  show  it,  would  fulfil  her  promise. 
Neither  did  he  doubt  that  so  much  innocence  and  sweetness 
as  she  possessed  would  make  a  favorable  impression  upon 
bis  aunt ;  but  he  judged  it  best  not  to  inform  the  latter  of 
til  e  possible  visit. 


JOSEPH   AND   MIS   FK1KND.  31 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MISS   BLESSING   CALLS   ON   RACHEL   MILLKB. 

ON  the  following  Saturday  afternoon,  Rachel  Miller  sat 
at  the  front  window  of  the  sittiug-room,  and  arranged  her 
light  taak  of  sewing  and  darning,  with  a  feeling  of  unusual 
comfort;.  The  household  work  of  the  week  was  over;  the 
weather  was  fine  and  warm,  with  a  brisk  drying  breeze  for 
the  hay  on  the  hill-field,  the  last  load  of  which  Joseph  ex- 
pected to  have  in  the  barn  before  his  five  o'clock  supper  was 
ready.  As  she  looked  down  the  valley,  she  noticed  that  the 
mowers  were  still  swinging  their  way  through  Hunter's 
grass,  and  that  Cunningham's  corn  sorely  needed  working. 
There  was  a  different  state  of  things  on  the  Asten  place. 
Everything  was  done,  and  well  done,  up  to  the  front  of  the 
season.  The  weather  had  been  fortunate,  it  was  true ;  but 
Joseph  had  urged  on  the  work  with  a  different  spirit.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  he  had  taken  a  new  interest  in  the  farm ; 
he  was  here  and  there,  even  inspecting  with  his  own  eyes 
the  minor  duties  which  had  been  formerly  intrusted  to  his 
man  Dennis.  How  could  she  ki.\ow  that  this  activity  was 
the  only  outlet  for  a  restless  heart  ? 

If  any  evil  should  come  of  his  social  recreation,  she  had 
done  her  duty ;  but  no  evil  seemed  likely.  She  had  always 
separated  his  legal  from  his  moral  independence ;  there  was 
no  enactment  establishing  the  period  when  the  latter  com- 
menced, and  it  could  not  be  made  manifest  by  documents, 
like  the  former.  She  would  have  admitted,  certainly,  that 


32  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

her  guardianship  must  cease  at  some  time,  but  the  thought 
of  making  preparation  for  that  time  had  never  entered  hex 
head.  She  only  understood  conditions,  not  the  adaptation 
of  characters  to  them.  Going  back  over  her  own  life,  she 
could  recall  but  little  difference  between  the  girl  of  eigh- 
teen and  the  woman  of  thirty.  There  was  the  same  place 
in  her  home,  the  same  duties,  the  same  subjection  to  the 
will  of  her  parents — no  exercise  of  independence  or  self- 
reliance  anywhere,  and  no  growth  of  those  virtues  beyond 
what  a  passive  maturity  brought  with  it. 

Even  now  she  thought  very  little  about  any  question  of 
life  in  connection  with  Joseph.  Her  parents  had  trained 
her  in  the  discipline  of  a  rigid  sect,  and  she  could  nob  dis- 
sociate the  idea  of  morality  from  that  of  solemn  renun 
ciation.  She  could  not  say  that  social  pleasures  were  posi- 
tively wrong,  but  they  always  seemed  to  her  to  be  enjoyed 
on  the  oxitside  of  an  open  door  labelled  "  Temptation ; " 
and  who  could  tell  what  lay  beyond  ?  Some  very  good  peo- 
ple, she  knew,  were  fond  of  company,  and  made  merry  in  an 
innocent  fashion ;  they  were  of  mature  years  and  settled 
characters,  and  Joseph  was  only  a  boy.  The  danger,  how- 
ever, was  not  so  imminent :  no  fault  could  be  found  with 
his  attention  to  duty,  and  a  chance  so  easily  escaped  was  a 
comfortable  guaranty  for  the  future. 

In  the  midst  of  this  mood  (we  can  hardly  say  train  of 
thought),  she  detected  the  top  of  a  carriage  through  the 
bushes  fringing  the  lane.  The  vehicle  presently  came  into 
view:  Anna  Warriner  was  driving,  and  there  were  two 
other  ladies  on  the  back  seat.  As  they  drew  up  at  the 
hitching:post  on  the  green,  she  recognized  Lucy  Henderson 
getting  out ;  but  the  airy  creature  who  sprang  after  her, — 
the  girl  with  dark,  falling  ringlets, — could  it  be  the  stranger 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  33 

from  town  ?  The  plain,  conn  try-made  gingham  dress,  the 
sober  linen  collar,  the  work-bag  on  her  arm — could  they  be- 
long to  the  stylish  young  lady  whose  acquaintance  had 
turned  Anna's  head  ? 

A  proper  spirit  of  hospitality  required  her  to  meet  the 
visitors  at  the  gate ;  so  there  was  no  time  left  for  conjec- 
ture. She  was  a  little  confused,  but  not  dissatisfied  at  the 
chance  of  seeing  the  stranger. 

"  We  thought  we  could  come  for  an  hour  this  afternoon, 
without  distiirbing  you,"  said  Anna  Warriner.  "  Mother 
has  lost  your  receipt  for  pickling  cherries,  and  Bob  said  you 
were  already  through  with  the  hay-harvest ;  and  so  we 
brought  Julia  along — this  is  Julia  Blessing." 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  "  said  Miss  Blessing,  timidly  extend- 
ing her  hand,  and  slightly  dropping  her  eyelids.  She  then 
fell  behind  Anna  and  Lucy,  and  spoke  no  more  until  they 
were  all  seated  in  the  sitting-room. 

"  How  do  you  like  the  country  by  this  time  ?  "  Rachel  asked, 
fe  iling  that  a  little  attention  was  necessary  to  a  new  guest. 

"  So  well  that  I  think  I  shall  never  like  the  city  again,' 
Miss  Blessing  answered.  "  This  quiet,  peaceful  life  is  such 
a  rest ;  and  I  really  never  before  knew  what  order  was,  and 
industry,  and  economy." 

She  looked  around  the  room  as  she  spoke,  and  glanced  at 
the  barn  through  the  eastern  window. 

"Yes,  your  ways  in  town  are  very  different,"  Rachel 
remarked.  . 

"It  seems  to  me,  now,  that  they  are  entirely  artificial. 
[  find  myself  so  ignorant  of  the  proper  way  of  living  that 
I  should  be  embarrassed  among  you,  if  you  were  not  all  so 
very  kind.  But  I  am  trying  to  learn  a  little." 

"O,  we  don't  expect  too  much  of  town's-folks,"  said  Ra 


34  JOSEPH   Aim   HIS   FEIENC. 

chel,  in  a  much  more  friendly  tone,  "  and  we're  always  glad 
to  see  them  willing  to  put  up  with  our  ways.  But  not 
many  are." 

"  Please  don't  count  me  among  those !  "  Miss  Blessing  ex- 
claimed. 

"  No,  indeed,  Miss  Rachel !  "  said  Anna.  Warriner ; 
"  you'd  be  surprised  to  know  how  Julia  gets  along  with 
everything — don't  she,  Lucy?" 

"  Yes,  she's  very  quick,"  Lucy  Henderson  replied. 

Miss  Blessing  cast  down  her  eyes,  smiled,  and  shook  her 
head. 

Rachel  Miller  asked  some  questions  which  opened  the 
sluices  of  Miss  Warriner's  gossip — and  she  had  a  good  store 
of  it.  The  ways  and  doings  of  various  individuals  were 
discussed,  and  Miss  Blessing's  occasional  remarks  showed  a 
complete  familiarity  with  them.  Her  manner  was  grave  and 
attentive,  and  Rachel  was  surprised  to  find  so  much  unob- 
trusive good  sense  in  her  views.  The  reality  was  so  differ- 
ent from  her  previously  assumed  impression,  that  she  feh, 
bound  to  make  some  reparation.  Almost  before  she  was 
aware  of  it,  her  manner  became  wholly  friendly  and  pleasant. 

"  May  I  look  at  your  trees  and  flowers  ?  "  Miss  Blessing 
asked,  when  the  gossip  had  been  pretty  well  exhausted. 

They  all  arose  and  went  out  on  the  lawn.  Rose  and  wood- 
bine, phlox  and  verbena,  passed  under  review,  and  then  the 
long,  rounded  walls  of  box  attracted  Miss  Blessing's  eye. 
This  was  a  feature  of  the  place  in  which  Rachel  Miller  felt 
considerable  pride,  and  she  led  the  way  through  the  gardeu 
gate.  Anna  Warriner,  however,  paused,  and  said : — 

"  Lucy,  let  us  go  down  to  the  spring-house.  We  can  get 
back  again  before  Julia  has  half  finished  her  raptures." 

Lucy  hesitated  a  moment.     She  looked  at  Miss  Blessing, 


JOSEPH    AUD   HIS   FRIEND.  35 

who  laughed  and  said,  "  O,  don't  mind  me  !  "  as  slie  took  her 
place  at  Rachel's  side. 

The  avenue  of  box  ran  the  whole  length  of  the  garden, 
which  sloped  gently  to  the  south.  At  the  bottom  the  green 
walls  curved  outward,  forming  three  fourths  of  a  circle,  spa- 
cious enough  to  contain  several  seats.  There  was  a  delightful 
view  of  the  valley  through  the  opening. 

"  The  loveliest  place  I  ever  saw  !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Bless- 
ing, taking"  one  of  the  rustic  chairs.  "  How  pleasant  it  must 
be,  when  you  have  all  your  neighbors  here  together !  " 

Rachel  Miller  was  a  little  startled ;  but  before  she  could 
reply,  Miss  Blessing  continued : — 

"  There  is  such  a  difference  between  a  company  of  young 
people  here  in  the  country,  and  what  is  called  'a  party'  in 
the  city.  There  it  is  all  dress  and  flirtation  and  vanity,  but 
here  it  is  only  neighborly  visiting  on  a  larger  scale.  I  have 
enjoyed  the  quiet  company  of  all  your  folks  so  much  the  more, 
because  I  felt  that  it  was  so  very  innocent.  Indeed,  I  don't 
see  how  anybody  could  be  led  into  harmful  ways  here." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Rachel :  "  we  must  learn  to  mistrust 
out  own  hearts." 

"  You  are  right !  The  best  are  weak — of  themselves ;  but 
there  is  more  safety  where  all  have  been  brought  up  unac- 
quainted with  temptation.  Now,  you  will  perhaps  wonder 
at  me  when  I  say  that  I  could  trust  the  young  men — for 
instance,  Mr.  Asten,  your  nephew — as  if  they  were  my 
brothers.  That  is,  I  feel  a  positive  certainty  of  their  excellent 
character.  What  they  say  they  mean :  it  is  otherwise  in  the 
city.  It  is  delightful  to  see  them  all  together,  like  meml>era 
of  one  family.  You  must  enjoy  it,  I  should  think,  when  they 
meet  here." 

Rachel  Miller's  eyes  opened  wide,  and  there  was  both  • 


36  JOSEPH   AND   HI0    FRIEND. 

puzzled  and  a  searching  expression  in  the  look  sho  gave  Mia 
Blessing.  The  latter,  with  an  air  of  almost  infantine  simpli- 
city, her  lips  slightly  parted,  accepted  the  scrutiny  with  a 
quiet  cheerfulness  which  seemed  the  perfection  of  candor. 

"  The  truth  is,"  said  Rachel,  slowly,  "  this  is  a  new  thing. 
I  hope  the  merry-makings  are  as  innocent  as  you  think ;  but 
I'm  afraid  they  unsettle  the  young  people,  after  all." 

"Do  you,  really?"  exclaimed  Miss  Blessing.  "What 
have  you  seen  in  them  which  leads  you  to  think  so  ?  But 
no — never  mind  my  question ;  you  may  have  reasons  which 
I  have  no  right  to  ask.  Now,  I  remember  Mr.  Asten  telling 
Anna  and  Lucy  and  myself,  how  much  he  should  like  to 
invite  his  friends  here,  if  it  were  not  for  a  duty  which  pre- 
vented it;  and  a  duty,  he  said,  was  more  important  to  him 
than  a  pleasure." 

"  Did  Joseph  say  that  ?  "  Rachel  exclaimed. 

"  O,  perhaps  I  oughtn't  to  have  told  it,"  said  Miss  Bless- 
ing, casting  down  her  eyes  and  blushing  in  confusion  :  "  it; 
that  case,  please  don't  say  anything  about  it !  Perhaps  it  was 
a  duty  towards  you,  for  he  told  me  that  he  looked  upon  you 
as  a  second  mother." 

Rachel's  e^es  softened,  and  it  was  a  little  while  before  she 
spoke.  "  I've  tried  to  do  my  duty  by  him,"  she  faltered  at 
last,  "  but  it  sometimes  seems  an  unthankful  business,  and  I 
can't  always  tell  how  he  takes  it.  And  so  he  wanted  to  have 
a  company  here  ?  " 

"  I  am  so  sorry  I  said  it !  "  cried  Miss  Blessing.  "  I  never 
thought  you  were  opposed  to  company,  on  principle.  Miss 
Chaffinch,  the  minister's  daughter,  you  know,  was  there  the 
last  time ;  and,  really,  if  you  could  see  it —  But  it  is  pre- 
sumptuous in  me  to  say  anything.  Indeed,  I  am  not  a  fair 
judge,  because  these  little  gatherings  have  enabled  me  to  make 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  87 

roch  pleasant  acquaintances.  And  the  young  men  tell  me 
that  they  work  all  the  better  after  them." 

"  It's  only  on  his  account,"  said  Rachel. 

"  Nay,  I'm  sure  that  the  last  thing  Mr.  Asten  would  wish 
would  be  your  giving  up  a  principle  for  his  sake  !  I  know, 
from  his  face,  that  his  own  character  is  founded  on  principle. 
And,  besides,  here  in  the  country,  you  don't  keep  count  oi 
hospitality,  as  they  do  in  the  city,  and  feel  obliged  to  return 
as  much  as  you  receive.  So,  if  you  will  try  to  forget  what 
I  have  said — " 

Rachel  interrupted  her.  "  I  meant  something  different. 
Joseph  knows  why  I  objected  to  parties.  He  must  not  feel 
under  obligations  which  I  stand  in  the  way  of  his  repaying. 
If  he  tells  me  that  he  should  like  to  invite  his  friends  to  thia 
place,  I  will  help  him  to  entertain  them." 

"  You  ore  his  second  mother,  indeed,"  Miss  Blessing  mur- 
mured, looking  at  her  with  a  fond  admiration.  "  And  now 
[  can  hope  that  you  will  forgive  my  thoughtlessness.  I  should 
feel  humiliated  in  his  presence,  if  he  knew  that  I  had  repeated 
his  words.  But  he  will  not  ask  you,  and  this  is  the  end  of 
any  harm  I  may  have  done." 

"  No,"  said  Rachel,  "  he  will  not  ask  me  ;  but  won't  I  be 
an  offence  in  his  mind  ?  " 

"  I  can  understand  how  you  feel — only  a  woman  can  judge 
a  woman's  heart.  Would  you  think  me  too  forward  if  I 
tell  you  what  might  be  done,  this  once  ?  " 

She  stole  softly  up  to  Rachel  as  she  spoke,  and  hud  her 
hand  gently  upon  her  arm. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  wrong — but  if  you  were  first  to  suggest  to 
your  nephew  that  if  he  wished  to  make  some  return  for  the 
hospitality  of  his  neighbors, — or  put  it  in  whatever  form  you 
think  best, — would  not  that  remove  the  '  offence '  (though  he 


38  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

surely  cannot  look  at  it  in  that  light),  and  make  him  grate* 
fill  and  happy  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Rachel,  after  a  little  reflection,  "  if  anything 
is  done,  that  would  be  as  good  a  way  as  any." 

"  And,  of  course,  you  won't  mention  me  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  call  to  do  it — as  I  can  see." 

"  Julia,  dear  !  "  cried  Anna  from  the  gate ;  "  come  and  see 
the  last  load  of  hay  hauled  into  the  barn  !  " 

"  I  should  like  to  see  it,  if  you  will  excuse  me,"  said  Miss 
Blessing  to  Rachel;  "I  have  taken  quite  an  interest  in 
farming." 

As  they  were  passing  the  porch,  Rachel  paused  on  the  step 
and  said  to  Anna:  "  You'll  bide  and  get  your  suppers?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  Anna  replied :  "  we  didn't  mean  to ;  but 
we  stayed  longer  than  we  intended — " 

"  Then  you  can  easily  stay  longer  still." 

There  was  nothing  unfriendly  in  Rachel's  blunt  manner. 
Anna  laughed,  took  Miss  Blessing  by  the  arm,  and  started 
for  the  barn.  Lucy  Henderson  quietly  turned  and  entered 
the  house,  where,  without  any  offer  of  services,  she  began  to 
assist  in  arranging  the  table. 

The  two  young  ladies  took  their  stand  on  the  green,  at  a 
safe  distance,  as  the  huge  fragrant  load  approached.  Tl.e 
hay  overhung  and  concealed  the  wheels,  as  well  as  the  hind 
quarters  of  the  oxen,  and  on  the  summit  stood  Joseph,  in  his 
shirt-sleeves  and  leaning  on  a  pitch-fork.  He  bent  forward 
as  he  saw  them,  answering  their  greetings  with  an  eager,  sur- 
prised face. 

"  O,  take  care,  take  care !  "  cried  Miss  Blessing,  as  the  load 
entered  the  barn-door ;  but  Joseph  had  already  dropped  upon 
his  knees  and  bent  his  shoulders.  Then  the  wagon  stood 
upon  the  barn-floor;  he  sprang  lightly  upon  a  beam,  de- 


JOSEPH    AJSTD   HIS    FKIEND.  39 

scended  the  upright  ladder,  and  the  next  moment  was  shaking 
hands  with  them. 

"  We  have  kept  our  promise,  you  see,"  said  Miss  Bless- 
ing. 

"  Have  you  been  in  the  house  yet  ?  "  Joseph  asked,  look- 
ing at  Anna. 

"  O,  for  an  hour  past,  and  we  are  going  to  take  supper 
with  you." 

"  Dennis  !  "  cried  Joseph,  turning  towards  the  barn,  "  we 
will  let  the  load  stand  to-night." 

"  How  mi  ;h  better  a  man  looks  in  shirt-sleeves  than  in  a 
dress-coat !  "  remarked  Miss  Blessing  aside  to  Anna  Warri- 
ner,  but  not  in  so  low  a  tone  as  to  prevent  Joseph  from  hear- 
ing it. 

"  Why,  Julia,  you  are  perfectly  countrified  !  I  never 
saw  anything  like  it !  "  Anna  replied. 

Joseph  turned  to  them  again,  with  a  blight  flush  on  hit 
face.  He  caught  Miss  Blessing's  eyes,  full  of  admiration, 
before  the  lids  fell  modestly  over  them. 

"  So  you've  seen  my  home,  already  ? "  he  said,  as  they 
walked  slowly  towards  the  house. 

"  O,  not  the  half  yet !  "  she  answered,  in  a  low,  earnest 
tone.  "  A  place  so  lovely  and  quiet  as  this  cannot  be  ap 
preciated  at  once.  I  almost  wish  I  had  not  seen  it :  what 
shall  I  do  when  I  must  go  back  to  the  hot  pavements,  and 
the  glaring  bricks,  and  the  dust,  and  the  hollow,  artificial 
life?"  She  tried  to  check  a  sigh,  but  only  partially  suc- 
ceeded ;  then,  with  a  sudden  effort,  she  laughed  lightly,  and 
added  :  "  I  wonder  if  everybody  doesn't  long  for  something 
else  ?  Now,  Anna,  here,  would  thiri  it  heavenly  to  change 
places  with  me." 

'*  Such  privileges  as  you  have  !  "  Anna  protested. 


40  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FE1END. 

"  Privileges  ?  "  Miss  Blessing  echoed.  "  The  privilege  of 
hearing  scandal,  of  being  judged  by  your  dress,  of  learning 
the  forms  and  manners,  instead  of  the  good  qualities,  of 
men  and  -women  ?  No  !  give  me  an  independent  life." 

"  Alone  ?  "  suggested  Miss  Warriner. 

Joseph  looked  at  Miss  Blessing,  who  made  no  reply.  Her 
head  was  turned  aside,  and  he  could  well  understand  that 
she  must  feel  hurt  at  Anna's  indelicacy. 

In  the  house  Rachel  Miller  and  Lucy  had,  in  the  mean 
time,  been  occupied  with  domestic  matters.  The  former, 
however,  was  so  shaken  out  of  her  usual  calm  by  the  con- 
versation in  the  garden,  that  in  spite  of  prudent  resolves 
to  keep  quiet,  she  could  not  restrain  herself  from  asking  a 
question  or  two. 

"  Lucy,"  said  she,  "  how  do  you  find  these  evening  parties 
you've  been  attending  ?  " 

"  They  are  lively  and  pleasant, — at  least  every  one  says 
ao." 

"  Are  you  going  to  have  any  more  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  be  the  wish,"  said  Lucy,  suddenly  hesitating, 
as  she  found  Rachel's  eyes  intently  fixed  upon  her  face. 

The  latter  was  silent  for  a  minute,  arranging  the  tea-ser- 
vice ;  but  she  pi-esently  asked  again :  "  Do  you  think 
Joseph  would  like  to  invite  the  young  people  here  ?  " 

"  She  has  told  you  !  "  Lucy  exclaimed,  in  unfeigned  irri- 
tation. "  Miss  Rachel,  don't  let  it  trouble  you  a  moment : 
nobody  expects  it  of  you  !  " 

Lucy  felt,  immediately,  that  her  expression  had  been  too 
frankly  positive  ;  but  even  the  consciousness  thereof  did  not 
enable  her  to  comprehend  its  effect. 

Rachel  straightened  herself  a  little,  and  said  "  Indeed  ?  *' 
in  anything  but  an  amiable  tone.  She  went  to  the  cupboard 


JOSEPH    AND   1118   FKIEND. 

and  returned  before  speaking  again.  "  I  didn't  say  any- 
body told  me,"  she  continued  ;  "  it's  likely  that  Joseph 
might  think  of  it,  and  I  don't  see  why  people  should  expec* 
me  to  stand  in  the  way  of  his  wishes." 

Lucy  was  so  astonished  that  she  could  not  immediately 
reply ;  and  the  entrance  of  Joseph  and  the  two  ladies  cut 
off  all  further  opportunity  of  clearing  up  what  she  felt  to  be 
an  awkward  misunderstanding. 

"  I  must  help,  too !  "  cried  Miss  Blessing,  skipping  into 
the  kitchen  after  Rachel.  "  That  is  one  thing,  at  least, 
which  we  can  learn  in  the  city.  Indeed,  if  it  wasn't  for 
housekeeping,  I  should  feel  terribly  useless." 

Rachel  protested  against  her  help,  but  in  vain.  Miss 
Blessing  had  a  laugh  and  a  lively  answer  for  every  remon- 
strance, and  flitted  about  in  a  manner  which  conveyed  the 
impression  that  she  was  doing  a  great  deal. 

Joseph  could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes,  when  he  came  down 
from  his  room  in  fresh  attire,  and  beheld  his  aunt  not  only 
so  assisted,  but  seeming  to  enjoy  it.  Lucy,  who  appeared 
to  be  ill  at  ease,  had  withdrawn  from  the  table,  and  was 
sitting  silently  beside  the  window.  Recalling  their  conver- 
sation a  few  evenings  before,  he  suspected  that  she  might  be 
transiently  annoyed  on  his  aunt's  account ;  she  had  less  con- 
fidence, perhaps,  in  Miss  Blessing's  winning,  natural  man- 
ners. So  Lucy's  silence  threw  no  shadow  upon  his  cheer- 
fulness :  he  had  never  felt  so  happy,  so  free,  so  delighted  to 
assume  the  character  of  a  host. 

After  the  first  solemnity  which  followed  the  taking  of 
seats  at  the  table,  the  meal  proceeded  with  less  than  the 
usual  decorum.  Joseph,  indeed,  so  far  forgot  his  duties, 
that  his  aunt  was  obliged  to  remind  him  of  them  from  time 
to  time.  Miss  Blessing  was  enthusiastic  over  the  cream 


42  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

ind  butter  and  marmalade,  and  Rachel  Miller  found  it  ex- 
ceedingly pleasant  to  have  her  handiwork  appreciated.  Al- 
though she  always  did  her  best,  for  Joseph's  sake,  she 
knew  that  men  have  very  ignorant,  indifferent  tastes  in  such 
matters. 

When  the  meal  was  over,  Anna  Warriner  said :  "  We 
are  going  to  take  Lucy  on  her  way  as  far  as  the  cross-roads ; 
so  there  will  not  be  more  than  time  to  get  home  by  sun- 
set." 

Before  the  carriage  was  ready,  however,  another  vehicle 
drove  up  the  lane.  El  wood  Withers  jumped  out,  gave 
Joseph  a  hearty  grip  of  his  powerful  hand,  greeted  the 
others  rapidly,  and  then  addressed  himself  specially  to  Lucy: 
**  I  was  going  to  a  township-meeting  at  the  Corner,"  said 
he ;  "but  Bob  Warriner  told  me  you  were  here  with  Anna 
go  I  thought  I  could  save  her  a  roundabout  drive  by  takirg 
you  myself." 

u  Thank  you ;  but  I'm  sorry  you  should  go  so  far  out  of 
your  road,"  said  Lucy.  Her  fnce  was  pale,  and  there  was 
an  evident  constraint  in  the  smile  which  accompanied  the 
words. 

"  O,  he'd  go  twice  as  far  for  company,"  Anna  Warriner 
remarked.  "  You  know  I'd  take  you,  and  welcome,  but  El- 
wood  has  a  good  claim  on  you,  now." 

"I  have  no  claim,  Lucy,"  said  Elwood,  rather  dog- 
gedly. 

**  Let  us  go,  then,"  were  Lucy's  words. 

She  rose,  and  the  four  were  soon  seated  in  the  two  vehi- 
cles. They  drove  away  in  the  low  sunshine,  one  pair  chat- 
ting and  laughing  merrily  as  long  as  they  were  within  hear 
ing;  the  other  singularly  grave  and  silent. 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  43 


CHAPTER  V. 

BLWOOD'S  EVENIHO,  AND  JOSEPH'S. 

FOR  half  a  mile  Elwood  Withers  followed  the  carriage 
containing  Anna  Warriner  and  her  friend ;  then,  at  the 
curve  of  the  valley,  their  roads  parted,  and  Lucy  and  hf 
were  alone.  The  soft  light  of  the  delicious  summer  evening 
was  around  them ;  the  air,  cooled  by  the  stream  which 
broadened  and  bickered  beside  their  way,  was  full  of  all 
healthy  meadow  odors,  and  every  farm  in  the  branching 
dells  they  passed  was  a  picture  of  tranquil  happiness.  Yet 
Lucy  had  sighed  before  she  was  aware  of  it, — a  very  faint, 
tremulous  breath,  but  it  reached  Elwood's  sensitive  ear. 

"  You  don't  seem  quite  well,  Lucy,"  he  said. 

"  Because  I  have  talked  so  little  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Not  just  that,  but — but  I  was  almost  afraid  my  coming 
for  you  was  not  welcome.  I  don't  mean —  "  But  here  he 
grew  confused,  and  did  not  finish  the  sentence. 

"  Indeed,  it  was  very  kind  of  you,"  said  she.  This  was 
not  an  answer  to  his  remark,  and  both  felt  that  it  was 
not. 

Elwood  struck  the  horse  with  his  whip,  then  as  suddenly 
jrew  the  reins  on  the  startled  animal.  "  Pshaw  ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, in  a  tone  that  was  almost  fierce,  "  what's  the  use  o1 
my  beating  about  the  bush  in  this  way  ?  " 

Lucy  caught  her  breath,  and  clenched  her  hands  under  her 
shawl  for  one  instant.  Then  she  became  calm,  and  waited  foi 
him  to  say  more. 


44  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"Lucy!  "  lie  continued,  turning  towards  her,  "  you  have  ? 
right  to  think  me  a  fooL  I  can  talk  to  anybody  else  more 
freely  than  to  you,  and  the  reason  is,  I  want  to  say  more  to 
you  than  to  any  other  woman  !  There's  no  use  in  my  being 
a  coward  any  longer ;  it's  a  desperate  venture  I'm  making, 
but  it  must  be  made.  Have  you  never  guessed  how  I  feel 
towards  you  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  very  quietly. 

"  "V\  ell,  what  do  you  say  to  it  ? "  He  tried  to  speak 
calmly,  but  his  breath  came  thick  and  hard,  and  the  word* 
sounded  hoarsely. 

"  I  will  say  this,  Elwood,"  said  she,  "  that  because  I  saw 
your  heart,  I  have  watched  your  ways  and  studied  your 
character.  I  find  you  honest  and  manly  in  everything,  and 
so  tender  and  faithful  that  I  wish  I  could  return  your  afleo- 
tion  in  the  same  measure." 

A  gleam,  as  of  lightning,  passed  over  his  face. 

"  O,  don't  misunderstand  me  !  "  she  cried,  her  calmness  for- 
saking her,  "  I  esteem,  I  honor  you,  and  that  makes  it  harder 
for  me  to  seem  ungrateful,  unfeeling, — as  I  must.  Elwood, 
if  I  could,  I  would  answer  you  as  you  wish,  but  I  cannot." 

"  If  I  wait  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  And  lose  your  best  years  in  a  vain  hope  !  No,  Elwood, 
my  friend, — let  me  always  call  you  so, — I  have  been  cow- 
ardly also.  I  knew  an  explanation  must  come,  and  I  shrank 
from  the  pain  I  should  feel  in  giving  you  pain.  It  is  hard  ; 
and  better  for  both  of  us  that  it  should  not  be  repeated ! " 

"  There's  something  wrong  in  this  world !  "  he  exclaimed, 
after  a  long  pause.  "I  suppose  you  could  no  more  force 
yourself  to  love  me  than  I  could  force  myself  to  love  Anna 
Warriner  or  that  Miss  Blessing.  Then  what  put  it  into  mj 
heart  to  love  you  ?  Was  it  God  or  the  Devil !  " 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS   PKJKNU.  48 

«  Elwood ! " 

"  How  can  I  help  myself?  Can  I  help  drawing  my 
breath  ?  Did  I  set  about  it  of  my  own  will  ?  Here  1  see 
a  life  that  belongs  to  my  own  life, — as  much  a  part  of  it  as 
my  head  or  heart ;  but  I  can't  reach  it, — it  draws  away  frotr 
me,  and  maybe  joins  itself  to  some  one  else  forever !  O  my 
God !  " 

Lucy  burst  into  such  a  violent  passion  of  weeping,  that 
Elwood  forgot  himself  in  his  trouble  for  her.  He  had  never 
witnessed  such  grief,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  and  his  honest 
heart  was  filled  with  self-reproach  at  having  caused  it. 

"  Forgive  me,  Lucy !  "  he  said,  very  tenderly  encircling 
her  with  his  arm,  and  drawing  her  head  upon  his  shoulder ; 
u  I  spoke  rashly  and  wickedly,  in  my  disappointment.  I 
thought  only  of  myself,  and  forgot  that  I  might  hurt  you 
by  my  words.  I'm  not  the  only  man  who  has  this  kind  of 
trouble  to  bear ;  and  perhaps  if  I  could  see  clearer — but  I 
don't  know ;  I  can  only  see  one  thing." 

She  grew  calmer  as  he  spoke.  Lifting  her  head  from  his 
shoulder,  she  took  his  hand,  and  said  :  "  You  are  a  true  and 
a  noble  man,  Elwood.  It  is  only  a  grief  to  me  that  I  can- 
not love  you  as  a  wife  should  love  her  husband.  But  my 
will  is  as  powerless  as  yours." 

"  I  believe  yoxi,  Lucy,"  he  answered,  sadly.  "  It's  not 
your  fault, — but,  then,  it  isn't  mine,  either.  You  make  me 
feel  that  the  same  rule  fits  both  of  us,  leastways  so  far  as 
helping  the  matter  is  concerned.  You  needn't  tell  me  T 
may  find  another  woman  to  love ;  the  very  thought  of  it 
makes  me  sick  at  heart.  I'm  rougher  than  you  are,  and 
* wk  ward  in  my  ways — " 

"  It  is  not  that  I  O,  believe  me,  it  is  not  that  1 "  cried 
Lucy,  interrupting  him.  "  Have  you  ever  sought  for  reasons 


46  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FBEEND. 

to  account  for  your  feeling  toward  me  ?  Is  it  not  something 
that  does  not  seem  to  depend  upon  what  I  am, — upon  any 
qualities  that  distinguish  me  from  other  women  ?  " 

11  How  do  you  know  so  much  ?  "  Elwood  asked.  "  Have 
you — "  He  commenced,  but  did  not  finish  the  question. 
He  leaned  silently  forward,  urged  on  the  horse,  and  Lucy 
could  see  that  his  face  was  very  stern. 

"  They  say,"  she  began,  on  finding  that  he  was  not  inclined 
to  speak, — "  they  say  that  women  have  a  natural  instinct 
which  helps  them  to  understand  many  things ;  and  I  think 
it  must  be  true.  Why  can  you  not  spare  me  the  demand 
for  reasons  which  I  have  not  ?  If  I  were  to  take  time,  and 
consider  it,  and  try  to  explain,  it  would  be  of  uo  help  to  you :  it 
would  not  change  the  fact.  I  suppose  a  man  feels  humiliated 
when  this  trouble  comes  upon  him.  He  shows  his  heart,  and 
there  seems  to  be  a  claim  upon  the  woman  of  his  choice  to 
show  hers  in  return.  The  sense  of  injustice  is  worse  than 
humiliation,  Elwood.  Though  I  cannot,  cannot  do  otherwise, 
[  shall  always  have  the  feeling  that  I  have  wronged  you." 

"  O  Lucy,"  he  murmured,  in  a  very  sad,  but  not  reproach- 
ful voice,  "every  word  you  say,  in  showing  me  that  I  must 
give  you  up,  only  makes  it  more  impossible  to  me.  And  it 
is  just  impossible, — that's  the  end  of  the  matter !  I  know 
how  people  talk  about  trials  being  sent  us  for  our  good,  and 
its  being  the  will  of  God,  and  all  that.  It's  a  trial,  that's 
true :  whether  it's  for  my  good  or  not,  I  shall  learn  after  a 
while ;  but  I  can  find  out  God's  will  only  by  trying  the 
strength  of  my  own.  Don't  be  afeared,  Lucy !  I've  no 
notion  of  saying  or  doing  anything  from  this  time  on  to  dis- 
turb you,  but  here  you  are "  (striking  his  breast  with  his 
clenched  hand),  "and  here  you  will  be  when  the  day  comes, 
as  I  feel  thai,  it  must  and  skull  come,  to  bring  us  together  1 " 


JOSEPH  AND   HIS   FKIKWD.  47 

She  could  see  the  glow  of  his  face  in  the  gathering  dusk; 
as  he  turned  towards  her  and  offered  his  hand.  How  could 
she  help  taking  it  ?  If  some  pulse  in  her  own  betrayed  the 
thrill  of  admiring  recognition  of  the  man's  powerful  and 
tender  nature,  which  suddenly  warmed  her  oppressed  blood, 
she  did  not  fear  that  he  would  draw  courage  from  the  token. 
She  wished  to  speak,  but  found  no  words  which,  coming 
after  his,  would  not  have  seemed  either  cold  and  unsympa- 
thetic, or  too  near  the  verge  of  the  hope  which  she  would 
gladly  have  crushed. 

Elwood  was  silent  for  a  while,  and  hardly  appeared  to  be 
awaiting  an  answer.  Meanwhile  the  road  left  the  valley, 
climbing  the  shoulders  of  its  enclosing  hills,  where  the  moist 
meadow  fragrance  was  left  behind,  and  dry,  warm  breezes, 
filled  with  the  peculiar  smell  of  the  wheat-fields,  blew  over 
them.  It  was  but  a  mile  farther  to  the  Corner,  near  which 
Lucy's  parents  resided. 

"  How  came  you  three  to  go  to  Joseph's  place  this  after- 
noon ?  "  he  asked.  "  Wasn't  it  a  dodge  of  Miss  Blessing's  ?  " 

"  She  proposed  it, — partly  in  play,  I  think  ;  and  when  she 
afterwards  insisted  on  our  going,  there  seemed  to  be  no  good 
reason  for  refusing." 

"  O,  of  course  not,"  said  Elwood ;  "  but  tell  me  now, 
honestly,  Lucy,  what  do  you  make  out  of  her  ?  " 

Lucy  hesitated  a  moment.  "  She  is  a  little  wilful  in  her 
ways,  perhaps,  but  we  mustn't  judge  too  hastily.  We  have 
known  her  such  a  short  time.  Her  manner  is  very  amiable." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  Elwood  remarked.  "  It  re- 
minds me  of  one  of  her  dresses, — so  ruffled,  and  puckered, 
Mid  stuck  over  with  ribbons  and  things,  that  you  can't 
rightly  tell  what  the  stuff  is.  I'd  like  to  be  sure  whethai 
she  has  an  eye  to  Joseph." 


4:8  JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FRIEND. 

u  To  him  I "  Lucy  exclaimed. 

"  Him  first  and  foremost !  He's  as  innocent  as  a  year-old 
baby.  There  isn't  a  better  fellow  living  than  Joseph  Asten, 
but  his  bringing  up  has  been  fitter  for  a  girl  than  a  boy.  He 
hasn't  had  his  eye-teeth  cut  yet,  and  it's  my  opinion  that  shf 
has." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  No  harm.  Used  to  the  world,  as  much  as  anything  else. 
He  don't  know  how  to  take  people ;  he  thinks  th'  outside 
color  runs  down  to  the  core.  So  it  does  with  him;  but  1 
can't  see  what  that  girl  is,  under  her  pleasant  ways,  and  he 
won't  guess  that  there's  anything  else  of  her.  Between 
ourselves,  Lucy, — you  don't  like  her.  I  saw  that  when  you 
came  away,  though  you  were  kissing  each  other  at  the  time." 

"  What  a  hypocrite  I  must  be ! "  cried  Lucy,  rather 
fiercely. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Women  kiss  as  men  shake  hands.  You 
don't  go  arouud,  saying, '  Julia  dear ! '  like  Anna  Warriner." 

Lucy  could  not  help  laughing.  "  There,"  she  said,  "  that's 
enough,  Elwood !  I'd  rather  you  would  think  yourself  in 
the  right  than  to  say  anything  more  about  her  this  evening." 

She  sighed  wearily,  not  attempting  to  conceal  her  fatigue 
and  depression. 

"  Well,  well !  "  he  replied ;  "  I'll  pester  you  no  more  with 
disagreeable  subjects.  There's  the  house,  now,  and  you'll 
soon  be  rid  of  me.  I  won't  tell  you,  Lucy,  that  if  you  ever 
want  for  friendly  service,  you  must  look  to  me, — because  I'm 
afeared  you  won't  feel  free  to  do  it ;  but  you'll  take  all  J 
can  find  to  do  without  your  asking." 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer  he  drew  up  his  horse  at 
the  gate  of  her  home,  handed  her  out,  said  "  Good  night  1 " 
and  drove  away. 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FKIEND.  49 

Such  a  singular  restlessness  took  possession  of  Joseplr 
after  the  departure  of  his  guests,  that  the  evening  quiet  of 
tne  farm  became  intolerable.  He  saddled  his  horse  and  sei 
out  for  the  village,  readily  inventing  an  errand  which  ex- 
piained  the  ride  to  himself  as  well  as  to  his  aunt. 

The  regular  movements  of  the  animal  did  not  banish  the 
unquiet  motions  of  his  mind,  but  it  relieved  him  by  giving 
them  a  wider  sweep  and  a  more  definite  form.  The  man 
who  walks  is  subject  to  the  power  of  his  Antaeus  of  a  body, 
moving  forwards  only  by  means  of  the  weight  which  holds  it 
to  the  earth.  There  is  a  clog  upon  all  his  thoughts,  an  ever- 
present  sense  of  restriction  and  impotence.  But  when  he  is 
lifted  above  the  soil,  with  the  air  under  his  foot-soles,  swiftly 
moving  without  effort,  his  mind,  a  poising  Mercury,  mounts 
on  winged  heels.  He  feels  the  liberation  of  new  and  nimble 
powers ;  wider  horizons  stretch  around  his  inward  vision ; 
obstacles  are  measured  or  overlooked;  the  brute  strength 
under  him  charges  his  whole  nature  with  a  more  vigorous 
electricity. 

The  fresh,  warm,  healthy  vital  force  which  filled  Joseph's 
body  to  the  last  embranchment  of  every  nerve  and  vein — 
the  1mm  of  those  multitudinous  spirits  of  life,  which,  while 
building  their  glorious  abode,  march  as  if  in  triumphant  pro- 
cession through  its  secret  passages,  and  summon  all  the  fair- 
est phantoms  of  sense  to  their  completed  chambers — consti 
tuted,  far  more  than  he  suspected,  an  element  of  his  disturb 
ance.  This  was  the  strong  pinion  on  which  his  mind  and 
soul  hung  balanced,  above  the  close  atmosphere  which  he 
seemed  to  ride  away  from,  as  he  rode.  The  great  joy  of  hu- 
man life  filled  and  thrilled  him ;  all  possibilities  of  action  and 
pleasure  and  emotion  swam  before  his  sight ;  all  he  had  read 
or  heard  of  individual  careers  in  all  ages,  climates,  and  con- 


50  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

ditions  of  the  race — dazzling  pictures  of  the  myriad-sided 
earth,  to  be  won  by  whosoever  dared  arbitrarily  to  seize  the 
freedom  waiting  for  his  grasp — floated  through  his  brain. 

Hitherto  a  conscience  not  born  of  his  own  nature, — a  very 
fair  and  saintly-visaged  jailer  of  thought,  but  a  jailer  non* 
the  less, — had  kept  strict  guard  over  every  outward  move- 
ment of  his  mind,  gently  touching  hope  and  desire  and  con- 
jecture when  they  reached  a  certain  line,  and  saying,  "  No ; 
no  farther :  it  is  prohibited."  But  now,  with  one  strong, 
involuntaiy  throb,  he  found  himself  beyond  the  line,  with 
all  the  ranges  ever  trodden  by  man  stretching  forward  to 
a  limitless  horizon.  He  rose  in  his  stirrups,  threw  out  his 
arms,  lifted  his  face  towards  the  sky,  and  cried,  "  God !  I  see 
what  I  am !  " 

It  was  only  a  glimpse, — like  that  of  a  landscape  struck  in 
golden  fire  by  lightning,  from  the  darkness.  "  What  is  it,'' 
he  mused,  "  that  stands  between  me  and  this  vision  of  life  ? 
Who  built  a  wall  of  imaginary  law  around  these  needs,  which 
are  in  themselves  inexorable  laws  ?  The  World,  the  Flesh, 
and  the  Devil,  they  say  in  warning.  Bright,  boundless 
world,  my  home,  my  play-ground,  my  battle-field,  my  king- 
dom to  be  conquered !  And  this  body  they  tell  me  to  de- 
spise,— this  perishing  house  of  clay,  which  is  so  intimately 
myself  that  its  comfort  and  delight  cheer  me  to  the  inmost 
soul :  it  is  a  dwelling  fit  for  an  angel  to  inhabit !  Shall  not 
its  hungering  senses  all  be  fed?  Who  shall  decide  for  me 
— if  not  myself — on  their  claims? — who  can  judge  for  me 
what  strength  requires  to  be  exercised,  what  pleasure  to  be 
enjoyed,  what  growth  to  be  forwarded  ?  All  around  me, 
everywhere,  are  the  means  of  gratification, — I  have  but  to 
reach  forth  my  hand  and  grasp ;  but  a  narrow  cell,  built 
ages  ago,  encloses  me  wherever  I  go  !  " 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FRIEND.  51 

Such  was  the  vague  substance  of  his  thoughts.  Tt  was  the 
old  struggle  between  life — primitive,  untamed  life,  as  the 
first  man  may  have  felt  it — and  its  many  masters :  assertion 
and  resistance,  all  the  more  fierce  because  so  many  influences 
laid  their  hands  upon  its  forces.  As  he  came  back  to  his 
usual  self,  refreshed  by  this  temporary  escape,  Joseph  won- 
dered whether  other  men  shared  the  same  longing  and  impa 
tieucfe ,  and  this  turned  his  musings  into  another  channel. 
"Why  do  men  so  carefully  conceal  what  is  deepest  and 
strongest  in  their  natures?  Why  is  so  little  of  spiritual 
struggle  and  experience  ever  imparted  ?  The  convert  publicly 
admits  his  sinful  experience,  and  tries  to  explain  the  entrance 
of  grace  into  his  regenerated  nature  ;  the  reformed  drunkard 
seems  to  take  a  positive  delight  in  making  his  former  condi- 
tion degraded  and  loathsome ;  but  the  opening  of  the  indi- 
vidual life  to  the  knowledge  of  power  and  passion  and  all  the 
possibilities  of  the  world  is  kept  more  secret  than  sin.  Love 
is  hidden  as  if  it  were  a  reproach ;  friendship  watched,  lest 
it  express  its  warmth  too  frankly;  joy  and  grief  and  doubt 
and  anxiety  repressed  as  much  as  possible.  A  great  ltd  is 
shut  down  upon  the  human  race.  They  must  painfully  stoop 
and  creep,  instead  of  standing  erect  with  only  God's  heaven 
over  their  heads.  I  am  lonely,  but  I  know  not  how  to  cry 
for  companionship ;  my  words  would  not  be  understood,  or, 
if  they  were,  would  not  be  answered.  Only  one  gate  is  free 
to  me, — that  leading  to  the  love  of  woman.  There,  at  least, 
must  be  siach  an  intense,  intimate  sympathy  as  shall  make 
the  reciprocal  revelation  of  the  lives  possible !  " 

Full  of  this  single  certainty,  which,  the  more  he  pondered 
upon  it,  seemed  to  be  his  nearest  chance  of  help,  Joseph  rode 
slowly  homewards.  Rachel  Miller,  who  had  impatiently 
awaited  his  coming,  remarked  the  abstraction  of  his  face,  and 


32  JOSEPH    AND    ins   FRIEND. 

attributed  it  to  a  very  different  cause.  She  was  thereby 
wonderfully  strengthened  to  make  her  communication  ir 
regard  to  the  evening  company ;  nevertheless,  the  subject 
was  so  slowly  approached  and  so  ambiguously  alluded  to, 
that  Joseph  could  not  immediately  understand  it. 

"  That  is  something  !  That  is  a  step ! "  he  said  to  him- 
self; then  turning  towards  her  with  a  genuine  satisfaction  in 
his  face,  added:  "Aunt,  do  you  know  that  I  have  never 
really  felt  until  now  that  I  am  the  owner  of  this  property  ? 
It  will  be  more  of  a  home  to  me  after  I  have  received  the 
neighborhood  as  my  guests.  It  has  always  controlled  me, 
but  now  it  must  serve  me." 

He  laughed  in  great  good-humor,  and  Rachel  Miller  iri 
her  heart,  thanked  Miss  Julia  Blessing. 


JOSEPH   AND  HIS  FRIEND.  $8 


CHAPTER  VL 

IN   THE   GARDEN. 

RACHEL  MILLER  was  not  a  woman  to  do  a  thing  by  halves, 
As  soon  as  the  question  was  settled,  she  gave  her  heart  and 
mind  to  the  necessary  preparations.  There  might  have  been 
a  little  surprise  in  some  quarters,  when  the  fact  became 
known  in  the  neighborhood  through  Joseph's  invitation,  but 
no  expression  of  it  reached  the  Asten  place.  Mrs.  Warriner, 
Anna's  mother,  called  to  inquire  if  she  could  be  of  service, 
and  also  to  suggest,  indirectly,  her  plan  of  entertaining  com- 
pany. Rachel  detected  the  latter  purpose,  and  was  a  little 
more  acquiescent  than  could  have  been  justified  to  her  own 
conscience,  seeing  that  at  the  very  moment  when  she  was 
listening  with  much  apparent  meekness,  she  was  mentally 
occupied  with  plans  for  outdoing  Mrs.  Warriner.  Moreover, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Chaffinch  had  graciously  signified  his  willing, 
uess  to  be  present,  and  the  stamp  of  strictest  orthodoxy  was 
thus  set  upon  the  entertainment.  She  was  both  assured  and 
stimulated,  as  the  time  drew  near,  and  even  surprised  Joseph 
by  saying :  "  If  I  was  better  acquainted  with  Miss  Blessing, 
she  might  help  me  a  good  deal  in  fixing  everything  just  as  it 
should  be.  There  are  times,  it  seems,  when  it 's  an  advan- 
tage to  know  something  of  the  world." 

"  I'll  ask  her  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed. 

"  You  !  And  a  mess  you'd  make  of  it,  very  likely ;  men 
think  they've  only  to  agree  to  invite  a  company,  and  that's 
all !  There's  a  hundred  things  to  be  thought  of  that  women 


54  JOSEPH    AITD   HIS   FRIEND. 

must  look  to ;  you  couldn't  even  understand  'em.  As  foi 
speaking  to  her, — she's  one  of  the  invites ^  and  it  would  never 
do  in  the  world." 

Joseph  said  no  more,  but  he  silently  determined  to  ask 
Miss  Blessing  on  her  arrival;  there  would  still  be  time. 
She,  with  her  wonderful  instinct,  her  power  of  accommo- 
dating people  to  each  other,  and  the  influence  which  she  had 
already  acquired  with  his  aunt,  would  certainly  see  at  a 
glance  how  the  current  was  setting,  and  guide  it  in  the 
proper  direction. 

But,  as  the  day  drew  near,  he  grew  so  restless  and 
uneasy  that  there  seemed  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  ride 
over  to  Warriner's  in  the  hope  of  catching  a  moment's  con- 
ference with  her,  in  advance  of  the  occasion. 

He  was  entirely  fortunate.  Anna  was  apparently  very 
busy  with  household  duties,  and  after  the  first  greetings  left 
him  alone  with  Miss  Blessing.  He  had  anticipated  a  little 
difficulty  in  making  his  message  known,  and  was  therefore 
much  relieved  when  she  said :  "  Now,  Mr.  Asten,  I  see  by 
your  face  that  you  have  something  particular  to  say.  It's 
about  to-morrow  night,  isn't  it  ?  You  must  let  me  help  you, 
if  I  can,  because  I  am  afraid  I  have  been,  without  exactly 
intending  it,  the  cause  of  so  much  trouble  to  you  and  your 
aunt." 

Joseph  opened  his  heart  at  once.  All  that  he  had  meant 
to  say  came  easily  and  naturally  to  his  lips,  because  Miss 
Blessing  seemed  to  feel  and  understand  the  situation,  and 
met  him  half-way  in  her  bright,  cheerful  acquiescence. 
Almost  before  he  knew  it,  he  had  made  her  acquainted  with 
what  had  been  said  and  done  at  home.  How  easily  she 
solved  the  absurd  doubts  and  difficulties  which  had  so  un- 
necessarily tormcDted  him  !  How  clearly,  through  her  fine 


JOSEPH    AXD    HIS   FRIEMD.  55 

female  instinct,  she  grasped  little  peculiarities  of  his  aunt's 
nature,  which  he,  after  years  of  close  companionship,  had 
failed  to  define !  Miss  Rachel,  she  said,  was  both  shy  and 
inexperienced,  and  it  was  only  the  struggle  to  conceal  theso 
conscious  defects  which  made  her  seem — not  unamiable, 
exactly,  but  irregular  in  her  manner.  Her  age,  and  her 
character  in  the  neighborhood,  did  not  permit  her  to  appear 
incompetent  to  any  emergency ;  it  was  a  very  natural  pride, 
and  must  be  treated  very  delicately  and  tenderly. 

Would  Joseph  trust  the  matter  entirely  to  her,  Miss 
Blessing  ?  It  was  a  great  deal  to  ask,  she  knew,  com- 
parative stranger  as  she  was ;  but  she  believed  that  a 
vpoman,  when  her  nature  had  not  been  distorted  by  the  con- 
ventionalities of  life,  had  a  natural  talent  for  smoothing  dif- 
ficulties, and  removing  obstacles  for  others.  Her  friends  had 
told  her  that  she  possessed  this  power ;  and  it  was  a  great 
happiness  to  think  so.  In  the  present  case,  she  was  ywre  she 
should  make  no  mistake.  She  would  endeavor  not  to  seem 
to  suggest  anything,  but  merely  to  assist  in  such  a  way  that 
Miss  Rachel  would  of  herself  see  what  else  was  necessary  to 
be  done. 

"  Now,"  she  remarked,  in  conclusion,  "  this  sounds  like 
vanity  in  me  ;  but  I  really  hope  it  is  not.  You  must  re- 
member that  in  the  city  we  are  obliged  to  know  all  the  little 
social  arts, — and  artifices,  I  am  afraid.  It  is  not  always  to 
our  credit,  but  then,  the  heart  may  be  kept  fresh  and  uncor- 
rupted." 

She  sighed,  and  cast  down  her  eyes.  Joseph  felt  the  in- 
creasing charm  of  a  nature  so  frank  and  so  trustful,  con- 
stantly luring  to  the  surface  the  maiden  secrets  of  his  own, 
The  confidence  already  established  between  them  was  wholly 
delightful,  because  their  sense  of  reciprocity  increased  as  il 


56  JOSEPH   AND   11IS   FRIEND. 

deepened.  He  felt  so  free  to  speak  that  he  could  not 
measure  the  fitness  of  his  words,  but  exclaimed,  without  a 
pause  for  thought : — 

"  Tell  me,  Miss  Julia,  did  you  not  suggest  this  party  to 
Aunt  Rachel  ?  " 

"  Don't  give  me  too  much  credit !  "  she  answered  ;  "  it 
was  talked  about,  and  I  couldn't  help  saying  Ay.  I  longed 
so  much  to  see  you — all — again  before  I  go  away." 

"  And  Lucy  Henderson  objected  to  it  ?  " 

"  Lucy,  I  think,  wanted  to  save  your  aunt  trouble.  Per- 
haps she  did  not  guess  that  the  real  objection  was  inex- 
perience, and  not  want  of  will  to  entertain  company.  And 
very  likely  she  helped  to  bring  it  about,  by  seeming  to 
oppose  it ;  so  you  must  not  be  angry  with  Lucy, — promise 
me!" 

She  looked  at  him  with  an  irresistibly  entreating  expres- 
sion, and  extended  her  hand,  which  he  seized  so  warmly  as  to 
give  her  pain.  But  she  returned  the  pressure,  and  there  was 
a  moment's  silence,  which  Anna  Warriner  interrupted  at  the 
right  time. 

The  next  day,  on  the  Asten  farm,  all  the  preparations 
were  quietly  and  successfully  made  long  in  advance  of  the 
first  arrivals.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Chaffinch  and  a  few  other 
specially  chosen  guests  made  their  appearance  in  the  after- 
noon. To  Joseph's  surprise,  the  Warriners  and  Miss  Bless- 
ing speedily  joined  them.  It  was,  in  reality,  a  private  ar- 
rangement which  his  aunt  had  made,  in  order  to  secure  at 
the  start  the  very  assistance  which  he  had  been  plotting  to 
render.  One  half  the  secret  of  the  ease  and  harmony 
which  he  felt  was  established  was  thus  unknown  to  him.  He 
looked  for  hints  or  indications  of  management  on  Misa 
Blessing's  paii,  but  saw  none.  The  two  women,  meeting 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  57 

sach  other  half-way,  needed  no  words  in  order  to  understand 
each  other,  and  Miss  Rachel,  gradually  made  secure  in  her 
part  of  hostess,  experienced  a  most  unaccustomed  sense  of 
triumph. 

At  the  supper-table  Mr.  Chaffinch  asked  a  blessing  with 
fervor ;  a  great,  balmy  dish  of  chickens  stewed  in  cream  was 
smoking  before  his  nostrils,  and  his  fourth  cup  of  tea  made 
Rachel  Miller  supremely  happy.  The  meal  was  honored  in 
silence,  as  is  tiie  case  where  there  is  much  to  eat  and  a 
proper  desire  and  capacity  to  do  it ;  only  towards  its  close 
were  the  tongues  of  the  guests  loosened,  and  content  made 
them  cheerful. 

"  You  have  entertained  us  almost  too  sumptuously,  Miss 
Miller,"  said  the  clergyman.  "And  now  let  us  go  out 
on  the  portico,  and  welcome  the  young  people  as  they  ar- 
rive." 

"  I  need  hardly  ask  you,  then,  Mr.  Chaffinch,"  said  she, 
"  whether  you  think  it  right  for  them  to  come  together  in 
this  way." 

"  Decidedly  !  "  he  answered  ;  "  that  is,  so  long  as  their 
conversation  is  modest  and  becoming.  It  is  easy  for  tho 
vanities  of  the  world  to  slip  in,  but  we  must  watch, — we 
must  watch." 

Rachel  Miller  took  a  seat  near  him,  beholding  the  gates 
of  perfect  enjoyment  opened  to  her  mind.  Dress,  the 
opera,  the  race-course,  literature,  stocks,  politics,  have  their 
fascination  for  so  many  several  classes  of  the  human  race ; 
out  to  her  there  was  nothing  on  this  earth  so  delightful 
as  to  be  told  of  temptation  and  backsliding  and  sin,  and  to 
feel  that  she  was  still  secure.  The  fact  that  there  was 
always  danger  added  a  zest  to  the  feeling ;  she  gave  herself 

credit  for  a  vigilance  which  li«ul  really  not  been  exercised. 
3* 


58  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

The  older  guests  moved  their  chairs  nearer,  and  listened, 
forgetting  the  sweetness  of  sunset  which  lay  upon  the  hills 
down  the  valley.  Anna  Warriner  laid  her  arm  around  Misa 
Chaffinch's  waist,  and  drew  her  towards  the  mown  field  be- 
yond the  barn ;  and  presently,  by  a  natural  chance,  as  it 
seemed,  Joseph  found  himself  beside  Miss  Blessing,  at  the 
bottom  of  the  lawn. 

All  the  western  hills  were  covered  with  one  cool,  broad 
shadow.  A  rich  orange  flush  touched  the  tops  of  the  woods 
to  the  eastward,  and  brightened  as  the  sky  above  them 
deepened  into  the  violet-gray  of  coming  dusk.  The  moist, 
delicious  freshness  which  filled  the  bed  of  the  valley  slowly 
crept  up  the  branching  glen,  and  already  tempered  the  air 
about  them.  Now  and  then  a  bird  chirped  happily  from  a 
neighboring  bush,  or  the  low  of  cattle  was  heard  from  the 
pasture-fields. 

"  Ah !  "  sighed  Miss  Blessing,  "  this  is  too  sweet  to  last : 
£  must  learn  to  do  without  it." 

She  lo'.^ed  at  him  swiftly,  and  then  glanced  away.  It 
seemed  that  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

Joseph  was  about  to  speak,  but  she  laid  her  hand  on  his 
arm.  "  ]  tush  !  "  she  said  ;  "  let  us  wait  until  the  light  has 
faded." 

The  glow  had  withdrawn  to  the  summits  of  the  distant 
hills,  fringing  them  with  a  thin,  wonderful  radiance.  But  it 
was  only  momentary.  The  next  moment  it  broke  on  the  ir- 
regular topmost  boughs,  and  then  disappeared,  as  if  blown 
out  by  u breeze  which  came  with  the  sudden  lifting  of  the  sky. 
She  turned  away  in  silence,  and  they  walked  slowly  together 
towards  the  house.  At  the  garden  gate  she  paused. 

"  That  superb  avenue  of  box  !  "  she  exclaimed ;  "  I  must 
see  it  agaii\  if  only  to  say  farewell." 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FKIEND.  59 

They  entered  the  garden,  and  in  a  moment  the  dense  green 
wall,  breathing  an  odor  seductive  to  heart  and  senses,  had 
hidden  them  from  the  sight — and  almost  from  the  hear- 
ing — of  the  guests  on  the  portico.  Looking  down  through 
the  southern  opening  of  the  avenue,  they  seemed  alone  in 
the  evening  valley. 

Joseph's  heart  was  beating  fast  and  strong ;  he  was  con- 
scious of  a  wild  fear,  so  interfused  with  pleasure,  that  it 
was  impossible  to  sepai-ate  the  sensations.  Miss  Bless- 
ing's hand  was  on  his  arm,  and  he  fancied  that  it  trembled. 

"  If  life  were  as  beautiful  and  peaceful  as  this,"  she 
whispered,  at  last,  "ig^e  should  not  need  to  seek  for  truth 
and — and — sympathy :  we  should  find  them  everywhere." 

"  Do  you  not  think  they  are  to  be  found  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  O,  in  how  few  hearts  !  I  can  say  it  to  you,  and  you 
will  not  misunderstand  me.  Until  lately  I  was  satisfied  with 
life  as  I  found  it :  I  thought  it  meant  diversion,  and  dress, 
and  gossip,  and  common  daily  duties,  but  now — now  I  see 
that  it  is  the  union  of  kindred  souls  !  " 

She  clasped  both  her  hands  over  his  arm  as  she  spoke,  and 
leaned  slightly  towards  him,  as  if  drawing  away  from  the 
dreary,  homeless  world.  Joseph  felt  all  that  the  action  ex- 
pressed, and  answered  in  an  unsteady  voice  : — 

"  And  yet — with  a  nature  like  yours — you  must  surely 
find  them." 

She  shook  her  head  sadly,  and  answered  :  "  Ah,  a  woman 
cannot  seek.  I  never  thought  I  should  be  able  to  say — to 
any  human  being — that  I  have  sought,  or  waited  for  recogni- 
tion. I  do  not  know  why  I  should  say  it  now.  I  try  to  be  my- 
self—my true  self — with  all  persons  ;  but  it  seems  impossible : 
my  nature  shrinks  from  some  and  is  drawn  towards  others 
Why  is  this?  What  is  the  mystery  that  surrounds  us?" 


60  JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FRIEND. 

rt  Do  you  believe,"  Joseph  asked,  "  that  two  souls  may  b« 
BO  united  that  they  shall  dare  to  surrender  all  knowledge  of 
themselves  to  each  other,  as  we  do,  helplessly,  before  God  ?  n 

"  O,"  she  murmured,  "  it  is  my  dream  !  I  thought  I  was 
alone  in  cherishing  it !  Can  it  ever  be  realized  ?  " 

Joseph's  brain  grew  hot:  the  release  he  had  invoked 
sprang  to  life  and  urged  him  forward.  Words  came  to  his 
lips,  he  knew  not  how. 

"If  it  is  my  dream  and  yours, — if  we  both  have  come  to 
the  faith  and  the  hope  we  find  in  no  others,  and  which  alone 
will  satisfy  our  lives,  is  it  not  a  sign  that  the  dream  is  over 
and  the  reality  has  begun  ? "  •  • 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  hands.  "Do  not  tempt  me  with 
what  I  had  given  up,  unless  you  can  teach  me  to  believe 
again  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  I  do  not  tempt  you,"  he  answered  breathlessly.  u  I 
tempt  myself.  I  believe." 

She  turned  suddenly,  laid  a  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  lifted 
her  face  and  looked  into  his  eyes  with  an  expression  of 
passionate  eagerness  and  joy.  All  her  attitude  breathed  of 
the  pause  of  the  wave  that  only  seems  to  hesitate  an  instant 
before  throwing  itself  upon  the  waiting  strand.  Joseph  had 
no  defence,  knew  of  none,  dreamed  of  none.  The  pale- 
brown  eyes,  now  dark,  deep,  and  almost  tearful,  drew  him 
with  irresistible  force :  the  sense  of  his  own  shy  reticent 
self  was  lost,  dissolved  in  the  strength  of  an  instinct  which 
possessed  him  body  and  soul, — which  bent  him  nearer  to  the 
slight  f  :>rm,  which  stretched  his  arms  to  answer  its  appeal, 
and  left  him,  after  one  dizzy  moment,,  with  Miss  Blessing's 
head  upon  his  breast. 

"  I  should  like  to  die  now,"  she  murmured  :  "  I  never  car 
be  so  happy  again." 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  81 

"  No,  no,"  said  he,  beiiding  over  her ;  "  live  for  me ! " 

She  raised  herself,  and  kissed  him  again  and  again,  and 
this  frank,  almost  childlike  betrayal  of  her  heart  seemed  to 
claim  from  Joseph  the  full  surrender  of  his  own.  He  re- 
turned her  caresses  with  equal  warmth,  and  the  twilight 
deepened  around  them  as  they  stood,  still  half-embracing. 

"  Can  I  make  you  happy,  Joseph?  " 

"Julia,  I  am  already  happier  than  I  ever  thought  it  pos- 
sible to  be." 

With  a  sudden  impulse  she  drew  away  from  him. 
"  Joseph  !  "  she  whispered,  "  will  you  always  bear  in  mind 
what  a  cold,  selfish,. worldly  life  mine  has  been?  You  do 
not  know  me ;  you  cannot  understand  the  school  in  which  1 
have  been  taught.  I  tell  you,  now,  that  I  have  had  to  learn 
cunning  and  artifice  and  equivocation.  I  am  dark  beside  a 
nature  so  pure  and  good  as  yours !  tf  you  must  ever  learn 
to  hate  me,  begin  now  !  Take  back  your  love  :  I  have  lived 
so  long  without  the  love  of  a  noble  human  heart,  that  I  can 
live  so  to  the  end  !  " 

She  again  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  her  frame 
shrank,  as  if  dreading  a  mortal  blow.  But  Joseph  caught 
her  back  to  his  breast,  touched  and  even  humiliated  by  such 
sharp  self-accusation.  Presently  she  looked  up :  her  eyes 
were  wet,  and  she  said,  with  a  pitiful  smile : — 

"  I  believe  you  do  love  me." 

"  And  I  will  not  give  you  up,"  said  Joseph,  **  though  you 
should  be  full  of  evil  as  I  am,  myself." 

She  laughed,  and  patted  his  cheek  :  all  her  frank,  bright, 
winning  manner  returned  at  once.  Then  commenced  those 
reciprocal  expressions  of  bliss,  which  are  so  inexhaustibly 
fresh  to  lovers,  so  endlessly  monotonous  to  everybody  else ; 
and  Joseph,  lost  to  time,  place,  and  circumstance,  would 


62  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

have  prolonged  them  far  into  the  night,  but  for  Miss  Julia's 
returning  self-possession. 

"1  hear  wheels,"  she  warned;  "the  evening  guests  arc 
coming,  and  they  will  expect  you  to  receive  them,  Joseph 
And  your  dear,  good  old  aunt  will  be  looking  for  me.  O, 
the  world,  the  world  !  We  must  give  ourselves  up  to  it,  and 
be  as  if  we  had  never  found  each  other.  I  shall  be  wild  un- 
less you  set  me  an  example  of  self-control.  Let  me  look  at 
you  once, — one  full,  precious,  perfect  look,  to  carry  in  my 
heart  through  the  evening  !  " 

Then  they  looked  in  each  other's  faces  ;  and  looking  was 
not  enough ;  and  their  lips,  without  the  use  of  words,  said 
the  temporary  farewell.  While  Joseph  hurried  across  the 
bottom  of  the  lawn,  to  meet  the  stream  of  approaching 
guests  which  filled  the  lane,  Miss  Julia,  at  the  top  of  the 
garden,  plucked  amaranth  leaves  for  a  wreath  which  would 
look  well  upon  her  dark  hair,  and  sang,  in  a  voice  loud 
enough  to  be  heard  from  the  portico  : — 

"  Ever  be  happy,  light  as  thou  art, 
Pride  of  the  pirate's  heart ! " 

Everybody  who  had  been  invited — and  quite  a  number 
who  had  not  been,  availing  themselves  of  the  easy  habits 
of  country  society — came  to  the  Asten  farm  that  evening. 
Joseph,  as  host,  seemed  at  times  a  little  confused  and 
flurried,  but  his  face  bloomed,  his  blue  eyes  sparkled, 
and  even  his  nearest  acquaintances  were  astonished  at 
the  courage  and  cordiality  with  which  he  performed  his 
duties.  The  presence  of  Mr.  Chaffinch  kept  the  gayety  of 
the  company  within  decorous  bounds ;  perhaps  the  number 
of  detached  groups  appeared  to  form  too  many  separate 
circles,  or  atmospheres  of  talk,  but  they  easily  dissolved,  or 
gave  to  and  took  from  each  other.  Rachel  Miller  was  not 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  68 

inclined  to  act  the  part  of  a  moral  detective  in  the  house 
which  she  managed ;  she  saw  nothing  which  the  strictest 
sense  of  propriety  could  condemn. 

Early  in  the  evening,  Joseph  met  Lucy  Henderson  in  the 
hall.  He  could  not  see  the  graver  change  in  her  face ; 
he  only  noticed  that  her  manner  was  not  so  quietly  attractive 
as  usual.  Yet  on  meeting  her  eyes  lie  felt  the  absurd  blood 
rushing  to  his  cheeks  and  brow,  and  his  tongue  hesitated  and 
stammered.  This  want  of  self-possession  vexed  him  ;  he  could 
not  account  for  it ;  and  he  cut  short  the  interview  by  moving 
abruptly  aw.  y. 

Lucy  half  turned,  and  looked  after  him,  with  an  expres- 
sion rather  of  siirprise  than  of  pain.  As  she  did  so  she  felt 
that  there  was  an  eye  upon  her,  and  by  a  strong  effort 
entered  the  room  without  encountering  the  face  of  Elwood 
Withers. 

When  the  company  broke  up,  Miss  Blessing,  who  was 
obliged  to  leave  with  the  Warriners,  found  an  opportunity  to 
whisper  to  Joseph :  "  Come  soon  !  "  There  was  a  long,  fer- 
vent clasp  of  hands  under  her  shawl,  and  then  the  carriage 
drove  away.  He  could  not  see  how  the  hand  was  transferred 
to  that  of  Anna  Warriner,  which  received  from  it  a 
squeeze  conveying  an  entire  narrative  to  that  young  lady's 
mind. 

Joseph's  duties  to  his  many  guests  prevented  him  from 
seeing  much  of  Elwood  during  the  evening ;  but,  when  the 
last  were  preparing  to  leave,  he  turned  to  the  latter,  con- 
scious of  a  tenderer  feeling  of  friendship  than  he  had  ever 
before  felt,  and  begged  him  to  stay  for  the  night.  Elwood 
held  up  the  lantern,  with  whic'i  he  had  been  examining  the 
harness  of  a  carriage  that  had  just  rolled  away,  ard  let  iti 
light  fall  upon  Joseph's  face. 


64:  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FBIEND. 

«*  Do  you  really  mean  it  ?  "  he  then  asked. 

"  I  don't  understand  you,  Elwood." 

"  Perhaps  I  don't  understand  myself."  But  the  next  mo- 
ment he  laughed,  and  then  added,  in  his  usual  tone :  "  Never 
mind;  Til  stay." 

They  occupied  the  same  room ;  and  neither  seemed  in- 
clined to  sleep.  After  the  company  had  been  discussed,  in  a 
way  which  both  felt  to  be  awkward  and  mechanical,  Elwood 
said :  "  Do  you  know  anything  more  about  love,  by  this 
time  ?  " 

Joseph  was  silent,  debating  with  himself  whether  he  should 
confide  the  wonderful  secret.  Elwood  suddenly  rose  up  in 
his  bed,  leaned  forward,  and  whispered  :  "  I  see, — you  need 
not  answer.  But  tell  me  this  one  thing :  is  it  Lucy  Hender- 
son?" 

«  No ;  O,  no !  " 

"  Does  she  know  of  it  ?  Your  face  told  some  sort  of  a 
tale  when  you  met  her  to-night." 

"  Not  to  her, — surely  not  to  her  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed. 

"  I  hope  not,"  Elwood  quietly  said  :  "  I  love  her." 

With  a  bound  Joseph  crossed  the  room  and  sat  down  on 
the  edge  of  his  friend's  bed.  "  Elwood  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  and 
you  are  happy,  too !  O,  now  I  can  tell  you  all, — it  is  Julia 
Blessing !  " 

"  Ha !  ha  !  "  Elwood  laughed, — a  short,  bitter  laugh, 
which  seemed  to  signify  anything  but  happiness.  "  Forgive 
me,  Joseph  !  "  he  presently  added,  "  but  there's  a  deal  of  dif- 
ference between  a  mitten  and  a  ring.  You  will  have  one 
and  I  have  the  other.  I  did  think  for  a  little  while  that  you 
stood  between  Lucy  and  me  ;  but  I  suppose  disappointment 
makes  men  fools." 

Something  in   Joseph's  breast  seemed  to  stop  the  warn: 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  65 

flood  of  his  feelings.  He  could  only  stammer,  after  a  long 
pause  :  "  But  I  am  not  in  your  way." 

"  So  I  see, — and  perhaps  nobody  is,  except  myself.  We 
won't  talk  of  this  any  more ;  there's  many  a  roundabout 
road  that  comes  out  into  the  straight  one  at  last.  But  you, 
— I  can't  understand  the  thing  at  all.  How  did  she — did 
you  come  to  love  her  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  ;  I  hardly  guessed  it  until  this  evening." 

"  Then,  Joseph,  go  slowly,  and  feel  your  way.  I'm  not 
the  one  to  advise,  after  what  has  happened  to  me  ;  but  maybe 
I  know  a  little  more  of  womankind  than  you.  It's  best  to 
have  a  longer  acquaintance  than  yours  has  been  ;  a  fellow 
can't  always  tell  a  sudden  fancy  from  a  love  that  has  the  grip 
of  death." 

"  Now  I  might  turn  your  own  words  against  you,  Elwood, 
for  you  tried  to  tell  me  what  love  is." 

"  I  did ;  and  before  I  knew  the  half.  But  come,  Joseph : 
promise  me  that  you  won't  let  Miss  Blessing  know  how  much 
you  feel  until — " 

"  Elwood,"  Joseph  breathlessly  interrupted,  "  she  knows 
it  now  !  We  were  together  this  evening." 

Elwood  fell  back  on  the  pillow  with  a  groan.  "  I'm  a 
poor  friend  to  you,"  he  said  :  "  I  want  to  wish  you  joy,  but 
I  can't, —  not  to-night.  The  way  things  are  fixed  in  thia 
world  stumps  me,  out  and  out.  Nothing  fits  as  it  ought,  and 
if  I  didn't  take  my  head  in  my  own  hands  and  hold  it  towards 
the  light  by  main  force,  I'd  only  see  blackness,  and  death, 
and  hell." 

Joseph  stole  back  to  his  bed,  and  lay  there  silently.  There 
was  a  subtle  dull  in  the  heart  of  his  happiness,  which  all  the 
remembered  glow  of  that  tender  scene  in  the  garden  could 
not  thaw. 


06  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

THE   BLESSING  FAMILY. 

JOSEPH'S  secret  was  not  suspected  by  any  of  the  company 
El  wood's  manner  towards  him  next  morning  was  warmei 
and  kinder  than  ever;  the  chill  of  the  past  night  had  been 
forgotten,  and  the  betrothal,  which  then  almost  seemed  like 
a  fetter  upon  his  future,  now  gave  him  a  sense  of  freedom 
and  strength.  He  would  have  gone  to  "Warriner's  at  once, 
but  for  the  fear  lest  he  should  betray  himself.  Miss  Bless- 
ing was  to  return  to  the  city  in  three  days  more,  and  a  single 
farewell  call  might  be  made  with  propriety ;  so  he  controlled 
his  impatience  and  allowed  another  day  to  intervene. 

When,  at  last,  the  hour  of  meeting  came,  Anna  Warriner 
proved  herself  an  efficient  ally.  Circumstances  were  against 
her,  yet  she  secured  the  lovers  a  few  minutes  in  which  they 
could  hold  each  other's  hands,  and  repeat  their  mutual  de- 
light, with  an  exquisite  sense  of  liberty  in  doing  so.  Miss 
Blessing  suggested  that  nothing  should  be  said  until  she  had 
acquainted  her  parents  with  the  engagement ;  there  might 
be  some  natural  difficulties  to  overcome ;  it  was  so  unex- 
pected, and  the  idea  of  losing  her  would  possibly  be  unwel- 
come, at  first.  She  would  write  in  a  few  days,  and  then 
Joseph  must  come  and  make  the  acquaintance  of  her  family. 

"  Then?  she  added,  «  I  shall  have  no  fear.  When  they 
have  once  seen  you  all  difficulties  will  vanish.  There  will 
be  no  trouble  with  ma  and  sister  Clementina ;  but  pa  is 
sometimes  a  little  peculiar,  on  account  of  his  connections. 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  67 

There !  don't  look  so  serious,  all  at  once ;  it  is  my  duty,  you 
know,  to  secure  you  a  loving  reception.  You  must  try  tc 
feel  already  that  you  have  two  homes,  as  I  do." 

Joseph  waited  very  anxiously  for  the  promised  letter,  and 
in  ten  days  it  came ;  it  was  brief,  but  satisfactory.  "  Would 
you  believe  it,  dear  Joseph,"  she  commenced,  "  pa  makes  no 
di  Ticulty !  he  only  requires  some  assurances  which  you  can 
very  easily  furnish.  Ma,  on  the  other  hand,  don't  like  the 
idea  of  giving  me  up.  I  can  hardly  say  it  without  seeming 
to  praise  myself ;  but  Clementina  never  took  very  kindly  to 
housekeeping  and  managing,  and  even  if  I  were  only  indif- 
ferent in  those  branches,  I  should  be  missed.  It  really  went 
to  my  heart  when  ma  met  me  at  the  door,  and  cried  out, 
'  Now  I  shall  have  a  little  rest ! '  You  may  imagine  how 
hard  it  was  to  tell  her.  But  she  is  a  dear,  good  mother,  and 
I  know  she  will  be  so  happy  to  find  a  son  in  you — as  she 
certainly  will.  Come,  soon, — soon  !  They  are  all  anxious 
to  know  you." 

The  city  was  not  so  distant  as  to  make  a  trip  thither  an 
unusual  event  for  the  young  farmers  of  the  neighborhood. 
Joseph  had  frequently  gone  there  for  a  day  in  the  interest  of 
his  sales  of  stock  and  grain,  and  he  found  no  difficulty  in  in- 
venting a  plausible  reason  for  the  journey.  The  train  at 
the  nearest  railway  station  transported  him  in  two  or  three 
hours  to  the  commencement  of  the  miles  of  hot,  dusty,  rat- 
tling pavements,  and  left  him  free  to  seek  for  the  brick  nest 
within  which  his  love  was  sheltered. 

Yet  now,  so  near  the  point  whence  his  new  life  was  to 
commence,  a  singular  unrest  took  possession  of  him.  He 
distinctly  felt  the  presence  of  two  forces,  acting  against  each 
other  with  nearly  equal  power,  but  without  neutralizing  their 
Disturbing  influence.  He  was  developing  faster  than  he 


68  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FK1KND. 

guessed,  yet,  to  a  nature  like  his,  the  last  knowledge  that 
comes  is  the  knowledge  of  self.  Some  occult  instinct  already 
whispered  that  his  life  thenceforth  would  be  stronger,  more 
independent,  but  also  more  disturbed  ;  and  this  was  what  he 
had  believed  was  wanting.  If  the  consciousness  of  loving 
and  being  loved  were  not  quite  the  same  in  experience  as  it 
had  seemed  to  his  ignorant  fancy,  it  was  yet  a  positive  hap- 
piness, and  wedlock  would  therefore  be  its  unbroken  con- 
tinuance. Julia  had  prepared  foi  his  introduction  into  her 
family  ;  he  must  learn  to  accept  her  parents  and  sister  as  his 
own  ;  and  now  the  hour  and  the  opportunity  were  at  hand. 

What  was  it,  then,  that  struck  upon  his  breast  almost 
like  a  physical  pressure,  and  mysteriously  resisted  his  er- 
rand ?  When  he  reached  the  cross-street,  in  which,  many 
squai-es  to  the  northward,  the  house  was  to  be  found,  he 
halted  for  some  minutes,  and  then,  instead  of  turning,  kept 
directly  onward  toward  the  river.  The  sight  of  the  water, 
the  gliding  sails,  the  lusty  life  and  labor  along  the  piers, 
suddenly  refreshed  him.  Men  were  tramping  up  and  down 
the  gangways  of  the  clipper-ships;  derricks  were  slowly 
swinging  over  the  sides  the  bales  and  boxes  which  had  been 
brought  up  from  the  holds  ;  drays  were  clattering  to  and  fro : 
wherever  he  turned  he  saw  a  picture  of  strength,  courage, 
reality,  solid  work.  The  men  that  went  and  came  took  life 
simply  as  a  succession  of  facts,  and  if  these  did  not  fit  smooth- 
ly into  each  other,  they  either  gave  themselves  no  trouble 
about  the  rough  edges,  or  drove  them  out  of  sight  with  a 
few  sturdy  blows.  What  Lucy  Henderson  had  said  about 
going  to  school  was  recalled  to  Joseph's  mind.  Here  was  a 
class  where  he  would  be  apt  to  stand  at  the  foot  for  many 
days.  Would  any  of  those  strapping  forms  comprehend  the 
disturbance  of  his  miud  ? — they  would  probably  advise  him 


JOSEPH    AND    UI8    FRIEND.  69 

to  go  to  the  nearest  apothecary-shop  and  pTirchase  a  fov 
blue-pills.  The  longer  he  watched  them,  the  more  he  felt  the 
contagion  of  their  unimaginative,  face-to-face  grapple  with 
life  ;  the  manly  element  in  him,  checked  so  long,  began  tc 
push  a  vigorous  shoot  towards  the  light. 

"  It  is  only  the  old  cowardice,  after  all,"  he  thought.  "  I 
am  still  shrinking  from  the  encounter  with  new  faces !  A 
lover,  soon  to  be  a  husband,  and  still  so  much  of  a  green 
youth  !  It  will  never  do.  I  must  learn  to  handle  my  duty 
as  that  stevedore  handles  a  barrel,  — take  hold  with  both 
hands,  push  and  trundle  and  guide,  till  the  weight  becomes 
a  mere  plaything.  There  !  —  he  starts  a  fresh  one,  — now 
for  mine  ! " 

Therewith  he  turned  about,  walked  sternly  back  to  the 
cross-street,  and  entered  it  without  pausing  at  the  corner, 
[t  was  still  a  long  walk  ;  and  the  street,  with  its  uniform 
brick  houses,  with  white  shutters,  green  interior  blinds,  and 
white  marble  steps,  grew  more  silent  and  monotonous. 
There  was  a  mixed  odor  of  salt-fish,  molasses,  and  decaying 
oranges  at  every  corner;  dark  wenches  lowered  the  nozzles 
of  their  jetting  hose  as  he  passed,  and  gills  in  draggled  cali- 
co frocks  turned  to  look  at  him  from  the  entrances  of  gloomy 
tunnels  leading  into  the  back  yards.  A  man  with  some- 
thing in  a  cart  uttered  from  time  to  time  a  piercing  unintelli- 
gible cry ;  barefooted  youngsters  swore  over  their  marbles 
on  the  sidewalk ;  and,  at  rare  intervals,  a  marvellous  mov- 
ing fabric  of  silks  and  colors  and  glosses  floated  past  nim. 
But  he  paused  for  none  of  these.  His  heart  beat  faster,  and 
the  strange  resistance  seemed  to  increase  with  the  increas- 
ing numbers  of  houses,  now  rapidly  approaching  The  One- 
then  it  came  ! 

There  was  an  entire  block  of  narrow  three-storied  dwell 


70  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

ings,  with  crowded  windows  and  flat  roofs.  If  Joseph  had 
been  familiar  with  the  city,  he  would  have  recognized  the 
air  of  cheap  gentility  which  exhaled  from  them,  and  which 
said,  as  plainly  as  if  the  words  had  been  painted  on  their 
fronts,  "  Here  we  keep  up  appearances  on  a  very  small  capi- 
tal." He  noticed  nothing,  however,  except  th.e  marble  steps 
and  the  front  doors,  all  of  which  were  alike  to  him  until  he 
came  upon  a  brass  plate  inscribed  "  B.  Blessing."  As  he 
looked  up  a  mass  of  dark  curls  vanished  with  a  start  from 
the  window.  The  door  suddenly  opened  before  he  could 
touch  the  bell-pull,  and  two  hands  upon  his  own  drew  him 
into  the  diminutive  hall. 

The  door  instantly  closed  again,  but  softly :  then  two  arms 
were  flung  around  his  neck,  and  his  willing  lips  received  a  sub- 
dued kiss.  "  Hush !  "  she  said  ;  "  it  is  delightful  that  you  have 
arrived,  though  we  didn't  expect  you  so  immediately.  Come 
into  the  drawing-room,  and  let  us  have  a  minute  together 
before  I  call  ma. " 

She  tripped  lightly  before  him,  and  they  were  presently 
seated  side  by  side,  on  the  sofa. 

"  What  could  have  brought  me  to  the  window  just  at  that  mo- 
ment ?  "  she  whispered  ;  "  it  must  have  been  presentiment." 

Joseph's  face  brightened  with  pleasure.  "  And  I  was  long 
on  the  way,"  he  answered.  "  What  will  you  think  of  me, 
Julia  ?  I  was  a  little  afraid." 

"  I  know  you  were,  Joseph,"  she  said.  "  It  is  only  the 
cold,  insensible  hearts  that  are  never  agitated." 

Their  eyes  met,  and  he  remarked,  for  the  first  time,  their 
peculiar  pale-brown,  almost  tawny  clearness.  The  next  in- 
stant her  long  lashes  slowly  fell  and  half  concealed  them;  she 
drew  away  slightly  from  him,  and  said :  "  I  should  like  to  D» 
beautiful,  for  your  sake ;  I  never  cared  about  it  before." 


JOSEPH    AND    ITIS   FRIEND.  71 

Without  giving  him  time  to  reply,  she  rose  and  moved 
towards  the  door,  then  looked  back,  smiled,  and  disap- 
peared. 

Joseph,  left  alone,  also  rose  and  walked  softly  up  ana 
down  the  room.  To  his  eyes  it  seemed  an  elegant,  if  rather 
chilly  apartment.  It  was  long  and  narrow,  with  a  small, 
delusive  fireplace  of  white  marble  (intended  only  for  hot  air) 
in  the  middle,  a  carpet  of  many  glaring  colors  on  the  floor, 
and  a  paper  brilliant  with  lilac-bunche's  on  the  walls.  Thero 
was  a  centre-table,  with  some  lukewarm  literature  cooling 
itself  on  the  marble  top ;  an  etagere,  with  a  few  nondescript 
cups  and  flagons,  and  a  cottage  piano,  on  which  lay  several 
sheets  of  music  by  Verdi  and  Balfe.  The  furniture,  not  very 
abundant,  was  swathed  in  a  nankeen  summer  dress.  There 
were  two  pictures  on  the  walls,  portraits  of  a  gentleman  and 
lady,  and  when  once  Joseph  had  caught  the  fixed  stare  of 
their  lustreless  eyes,  he  found  it  difficult  to  turn  away.  The 
imperfect  light  which  came  through  the  bowed  window 
shutters  revealed  a  florid,  puffy-faced  young  man,  whose 
head  was  held  up  by  a  high  black  satin  stock.  He  was 
leaning  against  a  fluted  pillar,  apparently  constructed  of 
putty,  behind  which  fell  a  superb  crimson  curtain,  lifted  up 
at  one  corner  to  disclose  a  patch  of  stormy  sky.  The  long 
locks,  tucked  in  at  the  temples,  the  carefully-delineated 
whiskers,  and  the  huge  signet-ring  on  the  second  finger  of 
the  one  exposed  hand,  indicated  that  a  certain  "  position  "  in 
society  was  either  possessed  or  claimed  of  right  by  the 
painted  person.  Joseph  could  hardly  doubt  that  this  was  a 
representation  of  "  B.  Blessing,"  as  he  appeared  twenty  or 
thirty  years  before. 

He  turned  to  the  other  picture.  The  lady  was  slender, 
and  meant  to  be  graceful,  her  head  being  inclined  so  that  the 


72  JOSEPH    AND    ms   FRIEND. 

curls  on  the  left  side  rolled  in  studied  disorder  upon  hei 
shoulder.  Her  face  was  thin  and  long,  with  well-marked  and 
not  unpleasant  features.  There  was  rather  too  positive  a 
bloom  upon  her  cheeks,  and  the  fixed  smile  on  the  narrow 
mouth  scarcely  harmonized  with  the  hard,  serious  stare  ol 
the  eyes.  She  was  royally  attired  in  purple,  and  her  bare 
white  arm — much  more  plumply  rounded  than  her  face 
would  have  given  reason  to  suspect — hung  with  a  listless 
grace  over  the  end  of  a  sofa. 

Joseph  looked  from  one  face  to  the  other  with  a  curious 
interest,  which  the  painted  eyes  seemed  also  to  reflect,  as 
they  followed  him.  They  were  strangers,  out  of  a  different 
sphere  of  life,  yet  they  must  become,  nay,  were  already,  a 
part  of  his  own  !  The  lady  scrutinized  him  closely,  in  spite 
of  her  smile ;  but  the  indifference  of  the  gentleman,  blandly 
satisfied  with  himself,  seemed  less  assuring  to  his  prospects. 

Footsteps  in  the  hall  interrupted  his  re  very,  and  he  had 
barely  time  to  slip  into  his  seat  when  the  door  opened  and 
Julia  entered,  followed  by  the  original  of  one  of  the  por- 
traits. He  recognized  her,  although  the  curls  had  dis- 
appeared, the  dark  hair  was  sprinkled  with  gray,  and  deep 
lines  about  the  mouth  and  eyes  gave  them  an  expression  of 
care  and  discontent.  In  one  respect  she  differed  from  her 
daughter :  her  eyes  were  gray. 

She  bent  her  head  with  a  stately  air  as  Joseph  rose, 
walked  past  Julia,  and  extended  her  hand,  with  the  words, — 

"  Mr.  Asten,  I  am  glad  to  see  you.     Pray  be  seated." 

When  all  had  taken  seats,  she  resumed :  "  Excuse  me  if  I 
begin  by  asking  a  question.  You  must  consider  that  I  have  onlj 
known  you  through  Julia,  and  her  description  could  not,  un 
der  the  circumstances,  be  very  clear.  What  is  your  age  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  twenty-three  next  birthday,"  Joseph  replied. 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FBIEND.  73 

"  Indeed !  I  am  happy  to  hear  it.  You  do  not  look 
more  than  nineteen.  I  have  reason  to  dread  very  youthful 
attachments,  and  am  therefore  reassured  to  know  that  you 
are  fully  a  man  and  competent  to  test  your  feelings.  I  trust 
that  you  have  so  tested  them.  Again  I  say,  excuse  me  if  the 
question  seems  to  imply  a  want  of  confidence.  A  mother's 
anxiety,  you  know — " 

Julia  clasped  her  hands  and  bent  down  her  head. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  myself,"  Joseph  said,  "  and  would 
try  to  make  you  as  sure,  if  I  knew  how  to  do  it." 

"  If  you  were  one  of  us, — of  the  city,  I  mean, — I  should 
be  able  to  judge  more  promptly.  It  is  many  years  since  ] 
bave  been  outside  of  our  own  select  circle,  and  I  am  there- 
fore not  so  competent  as  once  to  judge  of  men  in  general. 
While  I  will  never,  without  the  most  sufficient  reason,  in- 
fluence my  daughters  in  their  choice,  it  is  my  duty  to  tell 
you  that  Julia  is  exceedingly  susceptible  on  the  side  of  her 
affections.  A  wound  there  would  be  incurable  to  her.  We 
are  alike  in  that  ;  I  know  her  nature  through  my  own." 

Julia  hid  her  face  irpon  her  mother's  shoulder:  Joseph 
was  moved,  and  vainly  racked  liis  brain  for  some  form  of 
assurance  which  might  remove  the  maternal  anxiety. 

"There,"  said  Mrs.  Blessing;  "we  will  say  no  more 
about  it  now.  Go  and  bring  your  sister  !  " 

"  There  are  some  other  points,  Mr.  Asten,"  she  continued, 
"  which  have  no  doubt  already  occurred  to  your  mind.  .M  r. 
Blessing  will  consult  with  you  in  relation  to  them.  I  make 
it  a  rule  never  to  trespass  upon  his  field  of  duty.  As  you 
were  not  positively  expected  to-day,  lie  went  to  the  Custom 
House  as  usual ;  but  it  will  soon  be  time  for  him  to  return. 
Official  labors,  you  understand,  cannot  be  postponed.  If  you 
have  ever  served  in  a  government  capacity,  you  will  appre- 


74  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

ciato  his  position.  I  have  sometimes  wished  that  we  had  not 
become  identified  with  political  life ;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
there  are  compensations." 

Joseph,  impressed  more  by  Mrs.  Blessing's  important  man- 
ner than  the  words  she  uttered,  could  only  say,  "  I  beg  that 
my  visit  may  not  interfere  in  any  way  with  Mr.  Blessing's 
duties." 

"  Unfortunately,"  she  replied,  "  they  cannot  be  postponed< 
His  advice  is  more  required  by  the  Collector  than  his  spe- 
cial official  services.  But,  as  I  said,  he  will  confer  with  you 
in  regard  to  the  future  of  our  little  girl.  I  call  her  so,  Mr. 
A.sten,  because  she  is  the  youngest,  and  I  can  hardly  yet 
realize  that  she  is  old  enough  to  leave  me.  Yes :  the  young- 
est, and  the  first  to  go.  Had  it  been  Clementina,  I  should 
have  been  better  prepared  for  the  change.  But  a  mother 
should  always  be  ready  to  sacrifice  herself,  where  the  happi 
ness  of  a  child  is  at  stake." 

Mrs.  Blessing  gently  pressed  a  small  handkerchief  to  the 
corner  of  each  eye,  then  heaved  a  sigh,  and  resumed  her 
usual  calm  dignity  of  manner.  The  "door  opened,  and  Julia 
re-entered,  followed  by  her  sister. 

"  This  is  Miss  Blessing,"  said  the  mother. 

The  young  lady  bowed  very  formally,  and  therewith 
would  have  finished  her  greeting,  but  Joseph  had  already 
risen  and  extended  his  hand.  She  thereupon  gave  him  the 
tips  of  four  limp  fingers,  which  he  attempted  to  grasp  and 
then  let  go. 

Clementina  was  nearly  a  head  taller  than  her  sister,  and 
amply  proportioned.  She  had  a  small,  petulant  mouth, 
small  gray  eyes,  a  low,  narrow  forehead,  and  light  brown 
hair.  Her  eyelids  and  cheeks  had  the  same  pufiy  character 
a?  her  father's,  in  his  portrait  on  the  wall ;  yet  there  was  a 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  75 

bloom  and  brilliancy  about  her  complexion  which  &  aggested 
beauty.  A  faint  expression  of  curiosity  passed  over  her 
face,  on  meeting  Joseph,  but  she  uttered  no  word  of  wel- 
come. He  looked  at  Julia,  whose  manner  was  suddenly 
subdued,  and  was  quick  enough  to  perceive  a  rivalry  between 
the  sisters.  The  stolidity  of  Clementina's  countenance  in- 
dicated that  indifference  which  is  more  offensive  than  enmity. 
He  disliked  her  from  the  first  moment. 

Julia  kept  modestly  silent,  and  the  conversation,  in  spite 
of  her  mother's  capacity  to  carry  it  on,  did  not  nourish. 
Clementina  spoke  only  in  monosyllables,  which  she  let  fall 
from  time  to  time  with  a  silver  sweetness  which  startled 
Joseph,  it  seemed  so  at  variance  with  her  face  and  manner. 
He  felt  very  much  relieved  when,  after  more  than  one 
significant  glance  had  been  exchanged  with  her  mother,  the 
two  arose  and  left  the  room.  At  the  door  Mrs.  Blessing 
said :  "  Of  course  you  will  stay  and  take  a  family  tea  with 
us,  Mr.  Asten.  I  will  order  it  to  be  earlier  served,  as  you 
are  probably  not  accustomed  to  our  city  hours." 

Julia  looked  up  brightly  after  the  door  had  closed,  and  ex 
claimed  :  "  Now  !  when  ma  says  tfiat,  you  may  be  satisfied. 
Her  housekeeping  is  like  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 
She  probably  seemed  rather  formal  to  you,  and  it  is  true  that 
a  certain  amount  of  form  has  become  natural  to  her ;  but  it 
always  gives  way  when  she  is  strongly  moved.  Pa  is  to  como 
yet,  but  I  am  sure  you  will  get  on  very  well  with  him ; 
men  always  grow  acquainted  in  a  little  while.  I'm  afraid 
that  Clementina  did  not  impress  you  very — very  genially ; 
she  is,  I  may  confess  it  to  you,  a  little  peculiar." 

"  She  is  very  quiet,"  said  Joseph,  "  and  very  unlike  you.'" 

"  Every  one  notices  that.  And  we  seem  to  be  unlike  ir 
character,  as  much  so  as  if  there  were  no  relationship  be 


76  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

tween  us.  But  I  must  say  for  Clementina,  that  she  is  above 
personal  likings  and  dislikings ;  she  looks  at  people  abstractly 
Y"ou  are  only  a  future  brother-in-law  to  her,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve she  can  tell  whether  your  hair  is  black  or  the  beautiful 
golden  brown  that  it  is." 

Joseph  smiled,  not  ill-pleased  with  Julia's  delicate  flattery. 
u  I  am  all  the  more  delighted,"  he  said,  "that you  are  different. 
I  should  not  like  you,  Julia,  to  consider  me  an  abstraction." 

"You  are  very  real,  Joseph,  and  very  individual,"  she 
answered,  with  one  of  her  loveliest  smiles. 

Not  ten  minutes  afterwards,  Julia,  whose  eyes  and  ears 
were  keenly  on  the  alert,  notwithstanding  her  gay,  unre- 
strained talk,  heard  the  click  of  a  latch-key.  She  sprang 
up,  laid  her  forefinger  on  her  lips,  ga\>e  Joseph  a  swift, 
significant  glance,  and  darted  into  the  hall.  A  sound  of 
whispering  followed,  and  there  was  no  mistaking  the  deep, 
hoarse  murmur  of  one  of  the  voices. 

Mr.  Blessing,  without  the  fluted  pillar  and  the  crimson 
curtain,  was  less  formidable  than  Joseph  had  anticipated. 
The  years  had  added  to  his  body  and  taken  away  ft  om  his 
hair  ;  yet  his  face,  since  high  stocks  were  no  longer  in  fashion, 
had  lost  its  rigid  lift,  and  expressed  the  chronic  cordiality  of 
a  popular  politician.  There  was  a  redness  about  the  rims  of 
his  eyes,  and  a  fulness  of  the  under  lid,  which  also  denoted 
political  habits.  However,  despite  wrinkles,  redness,  and  a 
general  roughening  and  coarsening  of  the  features,  the  re- 
semblance to  the  portrait  was  still  strong  ;  and  Joseph,  feel- 
ing as  if  the  presentation  had  already  been  made,  offered  hii 
hand  as  soon  as  Mr.  Blessing  entered  the  room. 

u  Very  happy  to  see  you,  Mr.  Asten,"  said  the  latter. 
"  An  unexpected  pleasure,  sir." 

He  removed  the  glove  from  his  left  hand,  pulled  down  hii 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  77 

coat  and  vest,  felt  the  tie  of  his  cravat,  twite  hed  at  his  pan- 
taloons, ran  his  fingers  through  his  straggling  gray  locks,  and 
then  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  exclaiming :  "  After  busi- 
ness, pleasure,  sir !  My  duties  are  over  for  the  day.  Mrs. 
Blessing  probably  informed  you  of  my  official  capacity ;  but 
you  can  have  no  conception  of  the  vigilance  required  to 
prevent  evasion  of  the  revenue  laws.  We  are  the  country's 
watch-dogs,  sir." 

"  I  can  understand,"  Joseph  said,  "  that  an  official  position 
carries  with  it  much  responsibility." 

"Quite  right,  sir,  and  without  adequate  remuneration. 
Figuratively  speaking,  we  handle  millions,  and  we  are  paid 
by  dimes.  Were  it  not  for  the  consciousness  of  serving 
and  saving  for  the  nation — but  I  will  not  pursue  the  subject. 
When  we  have  become  better  acquainted,  you  can  judge  for 
yourself  whether  preferment  always  follows  capacity.  Our 
present  business  is  to  establish  a  nmtual  understanding, — 
as  we  say  in  politics,  to  prepare  a  platform, — and  I  think 
you  will  agree  with  me  that  the  circumstances  of  the  case 
require  frank  dealing,  as  between  man  and  man." 

"  Certainly  !  "  Joseph  answered  ;  "  I  only  ask  that,  al- 
though I  am  a  stranger  to  you,  you  will  accept  my  word  un- 
til you  have  the  means  of  verifying  it." 

"  I  may  safely  do  that  with  you,  sir.  My  associations — 
duties,  I  may  say — compel  me  to  know  many  persons  with 
whom  it  would  not  be  safe.  We  will  forget  the  disparity 
of  age  and  experience  between  us.  T  can  hardly  ask  you  to 
imagine  yourself  placed  in  my  situation,  but  perhaps  we  can 
make  the  case  quite  as  clear  if  I  state  to  you,  without  re- 
serve, what  I  should  be  ready  to  do,  if  our  present  positions 
were  reversed  :  Julia,  will  you  look  after  the  tea  ?  " 

"  Yes,  pa,"  said  she,  and  slipped  out  of  the  drawing-room 


78  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  If  I  were  a  young  man  from  the  country,  and  had  won 
the  affections  of  a  young  lady  of — well,  I  may  say  it  to  you 
— of  an  old  family,  whose  parents  were  ignorant  of  my  de- 
scent, means,  and  future  prospects  in  life,  I  should  consider 
it  my  first  dvity  to  enlighten  those  parents  upon  all  these 
points.  I  should  reflect  that  the  lady  must  be  removed  from 
their  sphere  to  mine ;  that,  while  the  attachment  was,  in 
itself,  vitally  important  to  her  and  to  me,  those  parents 
would  naturally  desire  to  compare  the  two  spheres,  and  as- 
sure themselves  that  their  daughter  would  lose  no  material 
advantages  by  the  transfer.  You  catch  my  meaning  ?  " 

"  I  came  here,"  said  Joseph,  "  with  the  single  intention  of 
satisfying  you — at  least,  I  came  hoping  that  T  shall  be  able 
to  do  so — in  regard  to  myself.  It  will  be  easy  for  you  to 
test  my  statements." 

"  Very  well.  We  will  begin,  then,  with  the  subject  of 
Family.  Understand  me,  I  mention  this  solely  because,  in 
our  old  communities,  Family  is  the  stamp  of  Character.  An 
established  name  represents  personal  qualities,  virtues.  It 
is  indifferent  to  me  whether  my  original  ancestor  was  a  De 
Belsain  (though  beauty  and  health  have  always  been  family 
characteristics) ;  but  it  is  important  that  he  transmitted  cer- 
tain traits  which — which  others,  perhaps,  can  better  describe. 
The  name  of  Asten  is  not  usual ;  it  has,  in  fact,  rather  a  distin- 
guished sound ;  but  I  am  not  acquainted  with  its  derivation." 

Joseph  restrained  a  temptation  to  smile,  and  replied : 
u  My  great-grandfather  came  from  England  more  than  a 
hundred  years  ago :  that  is  all  I  positively  know.  I  have 
heard  it  said  that  the  family  was  originally  Danish." 

"  You  must  look  into  the  matter,  sir  :  a  good  pedigree  is 
a,  bond  for  good  behavior.  The  Danes,  I  have  been  told; 
were  of  the  same  blood  as  the  Normans.  But  we  will  le* 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  T6 

that  pass.  Julia  informs  me  you  are  the  owner  of  a  hand 
some  farm,  yet  I  am  so  ignorant  of  values  in  the  country, — 
and  my  official  duties  oblige  me  to  measure  property  by  such 
a  different  standard, — that,  really,  unless  you  could  make 
the  farm  evident  to  me  in  figures,  I — " 

He  paused,  but  Joseph  was  quite  ready  with  the  desired 
intelligence.  "  I  have  two  hundred  acres,"  he  said,  "  and  a 
moderate  valuation  of  the  place  would  be  a  hundred  and 
thirty  dollars  an  acre.  There  is  a  mortgage  of  five  thousand 
dollars  on  the  place,  the  term  of  which  has  not  yet  expired; 
but  I  have  nearly  an  equal  amount  invested,  so  that  the  farm 
fairly  represents  what  I  own." 

"  H'm,"  mused  Mr.  Blessing,  thrusting  his  thumbs  into 
the  arm-holes  of  his  waistcoat,  "  that  is  not  a  great  deal  here 
in  the  city,  but  I  dare  say  it  is  a  handsome  competence  in 
•he  country.  It  doubtless  represents  a  certain  annual  in- 
line !  " 

"  It  is  a  very  comfortable  home,  in  the  first  place,"  said 
Joseph ;  "  the  farm  ought  to  yield,  after  supplying  nearly  all 
•he  wants  of  a  family,  an  annual  return  of  a  thousand  to  fif- 
<een  hundred  dollars,  according  to  the  season." 

"  Twenty-six  thousand  dollars  ! — and  five  per  cent  1 "  Mr. 
Blessing  exclaimed.  "  If  you  had  the  farm  in  money,  and 
knew  how  to  operate  with  it,  you  might  pocket  ten — fifteen 
—twenty  per  cent.  Many  a  man,  with  less  than  that  to  set 
him  afloat,  has  become  a  millionnaire  in  five  years'  time. 
But  it  takes  pluck  and  experience,  sir  1  " 

"  More  of  both  than  I  can  lay  claim  to,"  Joseph  remarked ; 
"  but  what  there  is  of  my  income  is  certain.  If  Julia  were 
not  so  fond  of  the  country,  and  already  so  familiar  with  our 
ways,  I  might  hesitate  to  offer  her  such  a  plain,  quiet  home, 
but—" 


80  JOSEPH  AND   HIS   FRLttND 

"  O,  I  know !  "  Mr.  Blessing  interrupted.  "  We  hav« 
beard  of  nothing  but  cows  and  spring-houses  and  willow- 
trees  since  she  came  back.  I  hope,  for  your  sake,  it  may  last 
for  I  see  that  you  are  determined  to  suit  each  other.  I  have 
no  inclination  to  act  the  obdurate  parent.  You  have  met 
me  like  a  man,  sir :  here's  my  hand ;  I  feel  suit  that,  as  my 
son-in-law,  yon  will  keep  up  the  reputation  of  the  family  !  *' 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  81 


CHAPTER  VHL 

A   CONSULTATION. 

THE  family  tea  was  served  in  a  small  dining-room  in  th« 
rear.  Mr.  Blessing,  who  had  become  more  and  more  cordial 
with  Joseph  after  formally  accepting  him,  led  the  way  thither 
and  managed  to  convey  a  rapid  signal  to  his  wife  before  the 
family  took  their  seats  at  the  table.  Joseph  was  the  only 
one  who  did  not  perceive  the  silent  communication  of  in- 
telligence ;  but  its  consequences  were  such  as  to  make  him 
speedily  feel  at  ease  in  the  Blessing  mansion.  Even  Clemen- 
tina relented  sufficiently  to  say,  in  her  most  silveiy  tones, 
"  May  I  offer  you  the  butter,  Mr.  Asten  ?  " 

The  table,  it  is  true,  was  very  unlike  the  substantial  sup- 
pers of  the  country.  There  was  a  variety  of  diminutive 
dishes,  containing  slices  so  delicate  that  they  mocked  rather 
than  excited  the  appetite ;  yet  Julia  (of  course  it  was  she !) 
had  managed  to  give  the  repast  an  air  of  elegance  which  wai 
at  least  agreeable  to  a  kindred  sense.  Joseph  took  the  little 
cup,  the  thin  tea,  the  five  drops  of  milk,  and  the  fragment 
of  sugar,  without  asking  himself  whether  the  beverage  were 
palatable  :  he  divided  a  leaf-like  piece  of  flesh  and  consumed 
several  wafers  of  bread,  blissfully  unconscious  whether  his 
ptomach  were  satisfied.  He  felt  that  he  had  been  received 
into  The  Family.  Mr.  Blessing  was  magnificently  bland, 
Mrs.  Blessing  was  maternally  interested,  Clementina  recog- 
nized his  existence,  and  Julia, — he  needed  but  one  look  at 
her  sparkling  eyes,  her  softly  flushed  cheeks,  her  bewitching 

ex  citement  of  manner,  to  guess  the  relief  of  her  heart..     H« 
4* 


82  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

forgot  the  vague  distress  which  had  preceded  his  coming,  and 
the  embarrassment  of  his  first  reception,  in  the  knowledge 
that  Julia  was  so  happy,  and  through  the  acquiescence  of 
her  parents,  in  his  love. 

It  was  settled  that  he  should  pass  the  night  there.  Mrs 
Blessing  would  take  no  denial ;  he  must  now  consider  their 
house  as  his  home.  She  would  also  call  him  "  Joseph,"  but 
not  now, — not  until  she  was  entitled  to  name  him  "  son." 
ft  had  come  suddenly  upon  her,  but  it  was  her  duty  to  be 
glad,  and  in  a  little  while  she  would  become  accustomed  to 
the  change. 

All  this  was  so  simply  and  cordially  said,  that  Joseph  quite 
warmed  to  the  stately  woman,  and  unconsciously  decided  to 
accept  his  fortune,  whatever  features  it  might  wear.  Until 
the  one  important  event,  at  least ;  after  that  it  would  be  in 
his  own  hands — and  Julia's. 

After  tea,  two  or  three  hours  passed  away  rather  slowly. 
Mr.  Blessing  sat  in  the  pit  of  a  back  yard  and  smoked  until 
dusk  ;  then  the  family  collected  in  the  "  drawing-room,"  and 
there  was  a  little  music,  and  a  variety  of  gossip,  with  occa- 
sional pauses  of  silence,  until  Mrs.  Blessing  said  :  "  Perhaps 
you  had  better  show  Mr.  Asten  to  his  room,  Mr.  Blessing. 
We  may  have  already  passed  over  his  accustomed  hour  for 
retiring.  If  so,  I  know  he  will  excuse  us ;  we  shall  soon 
become  familiar  with  each  other's  habits." 

When  Mr.  Blessing  returned,  he  first  opened  the  real- 
window,  drew  an  arm-chair  near  it,  took  off  his  coat,  seated 
himself,  and  lit  another  cigar.  His  wife  closed  the  front 
shutters,  slipped  the  night-bolts  of  the  door,  and  then  seated 
herself  beside  him.  Julia  whirled  around  on  her  music-stool 
to  face  the  coming  consultation,  and  Clementina  gracefully 
posed  herself  in  the  nearest  corner  of  the  sofa. 


JOSEPH    AND   IIIS    FEIEND.  88 

u  How  do  you  like  him,  Eliza  ?  "  Mr.  Blessing  asked,  after 
several  silent,  luxurious  whins. 

"  He  is  handsome^  and  seems  amiable,  but  younger  than  1 
expected.  Are  you  sure  of  his — his  feelings,  Julia?" 

"  O  ma  !  "  Julia  exclaimed  ;  "  what  a  question  1  I  can 
only  judge  them  by  my  own." 

Clementina  curled  her  lip  in  a  singular  fashion,  but  said 
nothing. 

"  It  seems  like  losing  Julia  entirely,"  Mrs.  Blessing  re- 
sumed. "  I  don't  know  how  she  will  be  able  to  retain  her 
place  in  our  circle,  unless  they  spend  a  part  of  the  winter  in 
the  city,  and  whether  he  has  means  enough — " 

She  paused,  and  looked  inquisitively  at  her  husband. 

"  You  always  look  at  the  establishment,"  said  he,  "  and 
never  consider  the  chances.  Marriage  is  a  deal,  a  throw,  a 
sort  of  kite-fly  ing,  in  fact  (except  in  our  case,  my  dear),  and, 
after  all  I've  learned  of  our  future  son-in-law,  I  must  say 
that  Julia  hasn't  a  bad  hand." 

"  I  knew  you'd  like  him,  pa  !  "  cried  the  delighted  Julia. 

Mr.  Blessing  looked  at  her  steadily  a  moment,  and  then 
winked ;  but  she  took  no  notice  of  it. 

"  There  is  another  thing,"  said  his  wife.  "  If  the  wedding 
conies  off  this  fall,  we  have  but  two  months  to  prepare ;  and 
how  will  you  manage  about  the — the  money  ?  We  can  save 
afterwards,  to  be  sure,  but  there  will  be  an  immediate  and 
fearful  expense.  I've  thought,  perhaps,  that  a  simple  and 
private  ceremony, — married  in  travelling-dress,  you  know, 
just  before  the  train  leaves,  and  no  cards, — it  is  sometimes 
done  in  the  highest  circles." 

"  It  won't  do !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Blessing,  waving  his  right 
hand.  "  Julia's  husband  must  have  an  opportunity  of  learn- 
ing our  standing  in  society.  I  will  invite  the  Collector,  and 


84  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FKIKND. 

the  Surveyor,  and  the  Appraiser.  The  money  must  be  raised 
I  should  be  willing  to  pawn —  " 

He  looked  around  the  room,  inspecting  the  well-worn 
carpet,  the  nankeen-covered  chairs,  the  old  piano,  and  finally 
the  two  pictures. 

"  — Your  portrait,  my  dear  ;  but,  unless  it  were  a  Stuart, 
I  couldn't  get  ten  dollars  on  it.  We  must  take  your  set  ot 
diamonds,  and  Julia's  rubies,  and  Clementina's  pearls." 

He  leaned  back,  and  laughed  with  great  glee.  The  ladies 
became  rigid  and  grave. 

"  It  is  wicked,  Benjamin,"  Mrs.  Blessing  severely  remark- 
ed, "  to  jest  over  our  troubles  at  such  a  time  as  this.  I  see 
nothing  else  to  do,  but  to  inform  Mr.  Asten,  frankly,  of  our 
condition.  He  is  yet  too  young,  I  think,  to  be  repelled  by 
poverty." 

"  Ma,  it  would  break  my  heart,"  said  Julia.  "  I  could 
not  bear  to  be  humiliated  in  his  eyes." 

"  Decidedly  the  best  thing  to  do,"  warbled  Clementina, 
speaking  for  the  first  time. 

"  That's  the  way  with  women, — flying  from  one  extreme 
to  the  other.  If  you  can't  have  white,  you  turn  around  and 
Bay  there's  no  other  color  than  black.  When  all  devices  are 
exhausted,  a  man  of  pluck  and  character  goes  to  work  and 
constructs  a  new  one.  Upon  my  soul,  I  don't  know  where 
the  money  is  to  come  from  ;  but  give  me  ten  days,  and  Julia 
shall  have  her  white  satin.  Now,  girls,  you  had  better  go 
to  bed." 

Mr.  Blessing  smoked  silently  until  the  sound  of  his 
daughters'  footsteps  had  ceased  on  the  stairs ;  then,  bringing 
down  his  hand  emphatically  upon  his  thigh,  he  exclaimed, 
*  By  Jove,  Eliza,  if  I  were  as  sharp  as  that  girl,  I'd  have 
had  the  Collectorship  before  this ! " 


JOSEPH   AND   HT8   FK1END.  86 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  She  seems  to  be  strongly  attached 
to  him." 

"  O,  no  doubt !  But  she  has  a  wonderful  talent  for  read- 
ing character.  The  young  fellow  is  pretty  green  wood  still ; 
what  he'll  season  into  depends  on  her.  Honest  as  the  day, 
— there's  nothing  like  a  country  life  for  that.  But  it's  a 
pity  that  such  a  fund  for  operations  should  lie  idle ;  he  has 
a  nest-egg  that  might  hatch  out  millions ! " 

"  I  hope,  Benjamin,  that  after  all  your  unfortunate  experi- 
ence— " 

"  Pray  don't  lament  in  advance,  and  especially  now,  when 
a  bit  of  luck  comes  to  us.  Julia  has  done  well,  and  I'll 
trust  her  to  improve  her  opportunities.  Besides,  this  will 
help  Clementina's  chances ;  where  there  is  one  marriage  in  a 
family,  there  is  generally  another.  Poor  girl !  she  has 
waited  a  long  while.  At  thirty-three,  the  market  gets  v-e-r-y 
flat." 

"And  yet  Julia  is  thirty,"  said  Mrs.  Blessing;  "and 
Clementina's  complexion  and  manners  have  been  considered 
superior." 

"  There's  just  her  mistake.  A  better  copy  of  Mrs.  TT».1i 
but's  airs  and  attitudes  was  never  produced,  and  it  was  al 
very  well  so  long  as  Mrs.  Halibut  gave  the  tone  to  society  j 
but  since  she  went  to  Europe,  and  Mrs.  Bass  has  somehow 
crept  into  her  place,  Clementina  is  quite — I  may  say — obso- 
lete. I  don't  object  to  her  complexion,  because  that  is  a 
standing  fashion,  but  she  is  expected  to  be  chatty,  and  witty, 
and  instead  of  that  she  stands  about  like  a  Venus  of  Milo. 
She  looks  like  me,  and  she  can't  lack  intelligence  and  tact. 
Why  couldn't  she  unbend  a  little  more  to  Asten,  whether 
ahe  likes  Him  or  not  ?  " 

"  You  know  I  never  seemed  to  manage  Clementina,"  hie 


86  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FBIEND. 

wife  replied  ;  "  if  she  were  to  dispute  my  opinion  sometimes, 
I  might,  perhaps,  gain  a  little  influence  over  her :  but  she 
won't  enter  into  a  discussion." 

"  Mrs.  Halibut's  way.  It  was  new,  then,  and,  with  hei 
husband's  money  to  back  it,  her  '  grace '  and  '  composure '  and 
'  serenity '  carried  all  before  her.  Give  me  fifty  thousand  a 
year,  and  I'll  put  Clementina  in  the  same  place !  But, 
come, — to  the  main  question.  1  suppose  we  shall  need  five 
hundred  dollars !  " 

"  Three  hundred,  I  think,  will  be  ample,"  said  Mrs. 
Blessing. 

"  Three  or  five,  it's  as  hard  to  raise  one  sum  as  the  other. 
I'll  try  for  five,  and  if  I  have  luck  with  the  two  hundred 
over — small,  careful  operations,  you  know,  which  always 
succeed — I  may  have  the  whole  amount  on  hand,  long  before 
it's  due." 

Mrs.  Blessing  smiled  in  a  melancholy,  hopeless  way,  and 
the  consultation  came  to  an  end. 

When  Joseph  was  left  alone  in  his  chamber,  he  felt  no 
inclination  to  sleep.  He  sat  at  the  open  window,  and  looked 
down  into  the  dim,  melancholy  street,  the  solitude  of  which 
was  broken  about  once  every  quarter  of  an  hour  by  a  forlorn 
pedestrian,  who  approached  through  gloom  and  lamplight,  was 
foreshortened  to  his  hat,  and  then  lengthened  away  on  the 
other  side.  The  new  acquaintances  he  had  just  made 
remained  all  the  more  vividly  in  his  thoughts  from  their 
nearness  ;  he  was  still  within  their  atmosphere.  They  wero 
unlike  any  persons  he  knew,  and  therefore  he  felt  that  he 
might  do  them  injustice  by  a  hasty  estimate  of  their  charac- 
ter. Clementina,  however,  was  excluded  from  this  charitable 
resolution.  Concentrating  his  dislike  on  her,  he  found  thai 
her  parents  had  received  him  with  as  much  consideration  as 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  87 

a  total  stranger  could  expect.  Moreover,  whatever  thej 
might  be,  Julia  was  the  same  here,  in  her  own  home,  aa 
when  she  was  a  guest  in  the  country.  As  playful,  as  win- 
ning, and  as  natural ;  and  he  began  to  suspect  that  her 
present  life  v»s  not  congenial  to  such  a  nature.  If  so,  her 
happiness  was  all  the  more  assured  by  their  union. 

This  thought  led  him  into  a  pictured  labyrinth  of  antici 
pation,  in  which  his  mind  wandered  with  delight.  He  was 
BO  absorbed  in  planning  the  new  household,  that  he  did  not 
hear  the  sisters  entering  the  rear  room  on  the  same  floor, 
which  was  only  separated  by  a  thin  partition  from  his 
own. 

"  White  satin !  "  he  suddenly  heard  Clementina  say :  "  of 
course  I  shall  have  the  same.  It  will  become  me  better 
than  you." 

"  I  should  think  you  might  be  satisfied  with  a  light  silk," 
Tulia  said ;  "  the  expenses  will  be  very  heavy." 

"  We'll  see,"  Clementina  answered  shortly,  pacing  up  and 
down  the  room. 

After  a  long  pause,  he  heard  Julia's  voice  again.  "  Never 
oaind,"  she  said,  "  I  shall  soon  be  out  of  your  way." 

"  I  wonder  how  much  he  knows  about  you  ! "  Clemen- 
tina exclaimed.  "  Your  arts  were  new  there,  and  you 
played  an  easy  game."  Here  she  lowered  her  voice,  and 
Joseph  only  distinguished  a  detached  word  now  and  then. 
He  rose,  indignant  at  this  unsisterly  assault,  and  wishing  to 
hear  no  more ;  but  it  seemed  that  the  movement  was  not 
noticed,  for  Julia  replied,  in  smothered,  excited  tones,  with 
some  remark  about  "  complexion." 

"  Well,  there  is  one  thing,"  Clementina  continued, — a  on« 
thing  you  will  keep  very  secret,  and  that  is  your  birthday 
Are  you  going  to  tell  him  that  vou  are — " 


88  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

Joseph  had  seized  the  back  of  a  chair,  and  with  a  sudden 
impulse  tilted  it  and  let  it  fall  on  the  floor.  Then  he 
walked  to  the  window,  closed  it,  and  prepared  to  go  to  rest, 
— all  with  more  noise  than  was  habitual  with  him.  There 
were  whispers  and  hushed  movements  in  the  next  room,  but 
not  another  audible  word  was  spoken.  Before  sleeping  he 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  more  than  Julia's  lover : 
he  was  her  deliverer.  The  idea  was  not  unwelcome :  it  gave 
a  new  value  and  significance  to  his  life. 

However  curious  Julia  might  have  been  to  discover  how 
much  he  had  overheard,  she  made  no  effort  to  ascertain  the 
fact.  She  met  him  next  morning  with  a  sweet  unconscious 
ness  of  what  she  had  endured,  which  convinced  him  thai 
such  painful  scenes  must  have  been  frequent,  or  she  could 
not  have  forgotten  so  easily.  His  greeting  to  Clementina 
was  brief  and  cold,  but  she  did  not  seem  to  notice  it  in  the 
least. 

It  wro  decided,  before  he  left,  that  the  wedding  shouH 
take  place  in  October. 


IOSEPH   AND    1118   FEIEKD. 


CHAPTEH  IX. 

JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

THE  train  moved  slowly  along  through  the  straggling  and 
shabby  suburbs,  increasing  its  speed  as  the  city  melted  grad- 
ually into  the  country ;  and  Joseph,  after  a  vain  attempt 
to  fix  his  mind  upon  one  of  the  volumes  he  had  procured  for 
his  slender  library  at  home,  leaned  back  in  his  seat  and  took 
note  of  his  fellow-travellers.  Since  he  began  to  approach 
the  usual  destiny  of  men,  they  had  a  new  interest  for  him 
Hitherto  he  had  looked  upon  strange  faces  very  much  as  on 
a  strange  language,  without  a  thought  of  interpreting  them  • 
but  now  their  hieroglyphics  seemed  to  suggest  a  meaning 
The  figures  around  him  were  so  many  sitting,  silent  histories, 
BO  many  locked-up  records  of  struggle,  loss,  gain,  and  all  the 
other  forces  which  give  shape  fend  color  to  human  life.  Mosi 
of  them  were  strangers  to  each  other,  and  as  reticent  (it, 
their  railway  conventionality)  as  himself ;  yet,  he  reflected, 
the  whole  range  of  passion,  pleasure,  and  suffering  was  prob- 
ably illustrated  in  that  collection  of  existences.  His  own 
troublesome  individuality  grew  fainter,  so  much  of  it  seemed 
to  be  merged  in  the  common  experience  of  men. 

There  was  the  portly  gentleman  of  fifty,  still  ruddy  and 
full  of  vi  n wasted  force.  The  keenness  and  coolness  of  hia 
eyes,  the  few  firmly  marked  lines  on  his  face,  and  the  color 
and  hardness  of  his  lips,  proclaimed .  to  everybody  :  "  I  am 
bold,  shrewd,  successful  in  business,  scrupulous  in  the  per- 
formance of  my  religious  duties  (on  the  Sabbath),  voting 


90  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

with  my  party,  and  not  likely  to  be  fooled  by  any  kind  of 
sentimental  nonsense."  The  thin,  not  very  well-dressed  mar> 
beside  him,  with  the  irregular  features  and  uncertain  ex- 
pression, announced  as  clearly,  to  any  who  could  read  :  "  I 
am  weak,  like  others,  but  I  never  consciously  did  any  harm. 
I  just  manage  to  get  along  in  the  world,  but  if  I  only  had  a 
chance,  I  might  make  something  better  of  myself."  The 
fresh,  healthy  fellow,  in  whose  lap  a  child  was  sleeping, 
while  his  wife  nursed  a  younger  one, — the  man  with  ample 
mouth,  large  nostrils,  and  the  hands  of  a  mechanic, —  also 
told  his  story :  "  On  the  whole,  I  find  life  a  comfortable 
thing.  I  don't  know  much  about  it,  but  I  take  it  as  it  comes, 
and  never  worry  over  what  I  can't  understand." 

The  faces  of  the  younger  men,  however,  were  not  so  easy 
to  decipher.  On  them  life  was  only  beginning  its  plastic 
tesk,  and  it  required  an  older  eye  to  detect  the  delicate 
touches  of  awakening  passions  and  hopes.  But  Joseph  con- 
soled himself  with  the  thought  that  his  own  secret  was  as  . 
little  to  be  discovered  as  any  they  might  have.  If  they  were 
still  ignorant  of  the  sweet  experience  of  love,  he  was  already 
their  superior  ;  if  they  were  sharers  in  it,  though  strangers, 
^  they  were  near  to  him.  Had  he  not  left  the  foot  of  the 
class,  after  all  ? 

All  at  once  his  eye  was  attracted  by  a  new  face,  three  or 
four  seats  from  his  own.  The  stranger  had  shifted  his  po- 
sition, so  that  he  was  no  longer  seen  in  profile.  He  was 
apparently  a  few  years  older  than  Joseph,  but  stiii  bright 
with  all  the  charm  of  early  manhood.  His  fair  complexion 
was  bronzed  from  exposure,  and  his  hands,  graceful  without 
being  effeminate,  wero  jiot  those  of  the  idle  gentleman.  His 
hair,  golden  in  tint,  thrust  its  short  locks  a.s  it  pleased  about 
a  smooth,  frank  forehead ;  the  eyes  were  dark  gray,  and  the 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FlilEND.  91 

mouth,  partly  hidden  by  a  mustache,  at  once  firm  and  full 
He  was  moderately  handsome,  yet  it  was  not  of  that  which 
Joseph  thought ;  he  felt  that  there  was  more  of  developed 
character  and  a  richer  past  history  expressed  in  those  fea- 
tures than  in  any  other  face  there.  He  felt  sure — and 
smiled  at  himself,  notwithstanding,  for  the  impression — 
that  at  least  some  of  his  own  doubts  and  difficulties  had 
found  their  solution  in  the  stranger's  nature.  The  more  he 
studied  the  face,  the  more  he  was  conscious  of  its  attraction, 
and  his  instinct  of  reliance,  though  utterly  without  grounds, 
justified  itself  to  his  mind  in  some  mysterious  way. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  unknown  felt  his  gaze,  and, 
turning  slowly  in  his  seat,  answered  it.  Joseph  dropped  his 
eyes  in  some  confusion,  but  not  until  he  had  caught  the  full, 
wai-m,  intense  expression  of  those  that  met  them.  He  fan- 
cied that  he  read  in  them,  in  that  momentary  flash,  what  he 
had  never  before  found  in  the  eyes  of  strangers, — a  simple, 
human  interest,  above  curiosity  and  above  mistrust.  The 
usual  reply  to  such  a  gaze  is  an  unconscious  defiance  :  the 
unknown  nature  is  on  its  guard  :  but  the  look  which  seems 
to  answer,  "  We  are  men,  let  us  know  each  other  1 "  is,  alas ! 
too  rare  in  this  world. 

While  Joseph  was  fighting  the  irresistible  temptation  to 
look  again,  there  was  a  sudden  thud  of  the  car-wheels.  Many 
of  the  passengers  started  from  their  seats,  only  to  be  thrown 
into  them  again  by  a  quick  succession  of  violent  jolts.  Jo- 
seph saw  the  stranger  springing  towards  the  bell-rope ;  then 
he  and  all  others  seemed  to  be  whirling  over  each  other; 
there  was  a  crash,  a  horrible  grinding  and  splintering  sound, 
and  the  end  of  all  was  a  shock,  in  which  his  consciousness 
left  him  before  he  could  guess  its  violence. 

Afte>*  a  while,  out  of  some  blank,  haunted  by  a  single 


92  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FBIEND. 

lost,  wandering  sense  of  existence,  he  began  to  awaken 
slowly  to  life.  Flames  were  still  dancing  in  his  eyeballs, 
and  waters  and  whirlwinds  roaring  in  his  ears ;  but  it  waa 
only  a  passive  sensation,  without  the  will  to  know  more. 
Them  he  felt  himself  partly  lifted  and  his  head  supported, 
and  presently  a  soft  warmth  fell  upon  the  region  of  his 
heart.  There  were  noises  all  about  him,  but  he  did  not 
listen  to  them ;  his  effort  to  regain  his  consciousness  fixed 
itself  on  that  point  alone,  and  grew  stronger  as  the  warmth 
calmed  the  confusion  of  his  nerves. 

"  Dip  this  in  water ! "  said  a  voice,  and  the  hand  (as  he 
now  knew  it  to  be)  was  removed  from  his  heart. 

Something  cold  came  over  his  forehead,  and  at  the  same 
time  warm  drops  fell  upon  his  cheek. 

"  Look  out  for  yourself :  your  head  is  cut ! "  exclaimed 
another  voice. 

"  Only  a  scratch.  Take  the  handkerchief  out  of  my  pocket 
and  tie  it  up ;  but  first  ask  yon  gentleman  for  his  flask  1  " 

Joseph  opened  his  eyes,  knew  the  face  that  bent  over  his, 
and  then  closed  them  again.  Gentle  and  strong  hands  raised 
him,  a  flask  was  set  to  his  lips,  and  he  drank  mechanically, 
but  a  full  sense  of  life  followed  the  draught.  He  looked 
wistfully  in  the  stranger's  face. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  said  the  latter;  "I  must  feel  your 
bones  before  you  try  to  move.  Arms  and  legs  all  right, — 
impossible  to  tell  about  the  ribs.  There  !  now  put  yotr 
ann  around  my  neck,  and  lean  on  me  as  much  as  you  like, 
while  I  lift  you." 

Joseph  did  as  he  was  bidden,  but  he  was  still  weak  and 
giddy,  and  after  a  few  steps,  they  both  sat  down  together 
npon  a  bank.  The  splintered  car  lay  near  them  upside 
down ;  the  passengers  had  been  extricated  from  it,  and  were 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  93 

DOW  busy  in  aiding  the  few  who  were  injured.  The  train 
bad  stopped  and  was  waiting  on  the  track  above.  Some 
were  very  pale  and  grave,  feeling  that  Death  had  touched 
without  taking  them ;  but  the  greater  part  were  concerned 
only  about  the  delay  to  the  train. 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?  "  asked  Joseph :  "  where  was  I  f 
how  did  you  find  me  ?  " 

"  The  usual  story, — a  broken  rail,"  said  the  stranger.  "  I 
had  just  caught  the  rope  when  the  car  went  over,  and  was 
swung  off  my  feet  so  luckily  that  I  somehow  escaped  the 
hardest  shock.  I  don't  think  I  lost  my  senses  for  a  moment. 
When  we  came  to  the  bottom  you  were  lying  just  before  me ; 
£  thought  you  dead  until  I  felt  your  heart.  It  is  a  severe 
shock,  but  I  hope  nothing  more." 

"  But  you, — are  you  not  badly  hurt  ?" 

The  stranger  pushed  up  the  handkerchief  which  was  tied 
around  his  head,  felt  his  temple,  and  said  :  "  It  must  have 
been  one  of  the  splinters ;  I  know  nothing  about  it.  But 
there  is  no  harm  in  a  little  blood-letting  except " — he  added, 
smiling — "  except  the  spots  on  your  face." 

By  this  time  the  other  injured  passengers  had  been  con- 
veyed to  the  train ;  the  whistle  sounded  a  warning  of  de- 
parture. 

"  I  think  we  can  get  up  the  embankment  now,"  said  the 
stranger.  "  You  must  let  me  take  care  of  you  still :  I  am 
travelling  alone." 

When  they  were  seated  side  by  side,  and  Joseph  leaned 
his  hea4  back  on  the  supporting  arm,  while  the  train  moved 
away  with  them,  he  felt  that  a  new  power,  a  new  support, 
had  come  to  his  life.  The  face  upon  which  he  looked  was 
ao  longer  strange  ;  the  hand  which  had  rested  on  his  heart 
was  warm  with  kindred  blood.  Involuntarily  he  extended 


94  JOSEPH   AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

bis  own;  it  was  taken  and  held,  and  the  dark-gray,  courage 
cms  eyes  turned  to  him  with  a  silent  assurance  which  he  fell 
needed  no  words. 

"  It  is  a  rough  introduction,"  he  then  said  :  "  my  name  ia 
Philip  Held.  I  was  on  my  way  to  Oakland  Station ;  but  if 
yon  are  going  farther — " 

"  Why,  that  is  my  station  also  1 "  Joseph  exclaimed,  giv- 
ing his  name  in  return. 

a  Then  we  should  have  probably  met,  sooner  or  later,  in  any 
case.  I  am  bound  for  the  forge  and  furnace  at  Coventry, 
which  is  for  sale.  If  the  company  who  employ  me  decide  to 
buy  it, — according  to  the  report  I  shall  make, — the  work.0 
will  be  placed  in  my  charge." 

"  It  is  but  six  miles  from  my  farm,"  said  Joseph,  "  and 
the  road  up  the  valley  is  the  most  beautiful  in  our  neighbor- 
hood. I  hope  you  can  make  a  favorable  report." 

•'  It  is  only  too  much  to  my  own  interest  to  do  so.  I  havt. 
oeen  mining  and  geologizing  in  Nevada  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains  for  three  or  four  years,  and  long  for  a  quiet,  or 
dered  life.  It  is  a  good  omen  that  I  have  found  a  neighbo) 
in  advance  of  my  settlement.  I  have  often  ridden  fifty 
miles  to  meet  a  friend  who  cared  for  something  else  than 
horse-racing  or  montej  and  your  six  miles, — it  is  but  a  step  ! " 

"  How  much  you  have  seen !  "  said  Joseph.  "  I  know 
very  little  of  the  world.  It  must  be  easy  for  you  to  take 
your  own  place  in  life. 

A  shade  passed  over  Philip  Held's  face.  "  It  is  only  easy 
to  a  certain  class  of  men,"  he  replied, — "  a  class  to  which  ] 
should  not  care  to  belong.  I  begin  to  think  that  nothing  is 
very  valuable,  the  right  to  which  a  man  don't  earn, — ex- 
cept human  love,  and  that  seems  to  come  by  the  «fr»ce  ort 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  95 

"  I  am  younger  than  you  are, — not  yet  twenty -three," 
Joseph  remarked.  "  You  will  find  that  I  am  very  ignorant." 

"  And  I  am  twenty-eight,  and  just  beginning  to  get  my 
eyes  open,  like  a  nine-days'  kitten.  If  I  had  been  frank 
enough  to  confess  my  ignorance,  five  years  ago,  as  you  do 
now.  it  would  have  been  better  for  me.  But  don't  let  u« 
measure  ourselves  or  our  experience  against  each  other. 
That  is  one  good  thing  we  learn  in  Rocky  Mountain 
life ;  there  is  no  high  or  low,  knowledge  or  ignorance,  except 
what  applies  to  the  needs  of  men  who  come  together.  So 
there  are  needs  which  most  men  have,  and  go  all  their  lives 
hungering  for,  because  they  expect  them  to  be  supplied  in  a 
particular  form.  There  is  something,"  Philip  concluded, 
"  deeper  than  that  in  human  nature." 

Joseph  longed  to  open  his  heart  to  this  man,  every  one  of 
whose  words  struck  home  to  something  in  himself.  But  the 
lassitude  which  the  shock  left  Behind  gradually  overcame 
him.  He  sxaflfered  his  head  to  be  drawn  upon  Philip  Held's 
shoulder,  and  slept  until  the  train  reached  Oakland  Station. 
When  the  two  got  upon  the  platform,  they  found  Dennis 
waiting  for  Joseph,  with  a  light  country  vehicle.  The  news 
of  the  accident  had  reached  the  station,  and  his  dismay  was 
great  when  he  saw  the  two  bloody  faces.  A  physician  had 
already  been  summoned  from  the  neighboring  village,  but 
they  had  little  need  of  his  services.  A  prescription  of  quiet 
and  sedatives  for  Joseph,  and  a  strip  of  plaster  for  his  com 
panion,  were  speedily  furnished,  and  they  set  out  togethei 
for  the  Asten  place. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  describe  Rachel  Miller's  agitation 
when  the  party  arrived ;  or  the  parting  of  the  two  men  who 
had  been  so  swiftly  brought  near  to  each  other;  or  Philip 
Held's  farther  journey  to  the  forge  that  evening.  He  re 


96  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FEIENDi. 

nsted  all  entreaty  to  remain  at  the  farm  until  morning,  OB 
the  ground  of  an  appointment  made  with  the  present  pro- 
prietor of  the  forge.  After  his  departure  Joseph  was  sent 
to  bed,  where  he  remained  for  a  day  or  two,  very  sore  and 
a  little  feverish.  He  had  plenty  of  time  for  thought, — not 
precisely  of  the  kind  which  his  aunt  suspected,  for  out  of 
pure,  honest  interest  in  his  welfare,  she  took  a  step  which 
proved  to  be  of  doubtful  benefit.  If  he  had  not  been  so  in- 
nocent,— if  he  had  not  been  quite  as  unconscious  of  his  in- 
ner nature  as  he  was  over-conscious  of  his  external  self, — • 
he  would  have  perceived  that  his  thoughts  dwelt  much  more 
on  Philip  Held  than  on  Julia  Blessing.  His  mind  seemed 
to  run  through  a  swift,  involuntary  chain  of  reasoning,  to 
account  to  himself  for  his  feeling  towards  her,  and  her  in- 
evitable share  in  his  future ;  but  towards  Philip  his  heart 
sprang  with  an  instinct  beyond  his  control.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  imagine  that  the  latter  also  would  not  be  shot,  like 
a  bright  thread,  through  the  web  of  his  coming  days. 

On  the  third  morning,  when  he  had  exchanged  the  bed  foz 
an  arm-chair,  a  letter  from  the  city  was  brought  to  him. 
"  Dearest  Joseph,"  it  ran,  "  what  a  fright  and  anxiety  we 
have  had !  When  pa  brought  the  paper  home,  last  night, 
and  I  read  the  report  of  the  accident,  where  it  said,  '  *T. 
Asten,  severe  contusions,'  my  heart  stopped  beating  for  a 
minute,  and  I  can  only  write  now  (as  you  see)  with  a 
trembling  hand.  My  first  thought  was  to  go  directly  to 
you  ;  but  ma  said  we  had  better  wait  for  intelligence.  Un- 
less our  engigement  were  generally  known,  it  would  give 
rise  to  remarks, — in  short,  I  need  not  repeat  to  you  all  the 
worldly  reasons  with  which  she  opposed  me ;  but,  oh,  how  I 
longed  for  the  right  to  be  at  your  side,  and  assure  myself 
that  the  dreadful,  dreadful  danger  has  passed  !  Pa  was 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  97 

quite  shaken  with  the  news:  he  felt  hardly  able  to  goto  the 
Custom-House  this  morning.  But  he  sides  with  ma  about 
my  going,  and  now,  when  my  time  as  a  daughter  with  them 
is  growing  so  short,  I  dare  not  disobey.  I  know  you  will 
understand  my  position,  yet,  dear  and  true  as  you  are,  you 
cannot  guess  the  anxiety  with  which  I  await  a  line  from 
your  hand,  the  hand  that  was  so  nearly  taken  from  me 
forever  !  " 

Joseph  read  the  letter  twice  and  was  about  to  commence 
it  for  the  third  time,  when  a  visitor  was  announced.  He 
had  barely  time  to  thrust  the  scented  sheet  into  his  pocket ; 
and  the  bright  eyes  and  flushed  face  with  which  he  met  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Chaffinch  convinced  both  that  gentleman  and  his 
aunt,  as  she  ushered  the  latter  into  the  room,  that  the  visit 
was  accepted  as  an  honor  and  a  joy. 

On  Mr.  Chaffinch's  face  the  air  of  authority  which  he  had 
been  led  to  believe  belonged  to  his  calling  had  not  quite  suc- 
ceeded in  impressing  itself;  but  melancholy,  the  next  best 
thing,  was  strongly  marked.  His  dark  complexion  and  his 
white  cravat  intensified  each  other ;  and  his  eyes,  so  long 
uplifted  above  the  concerns  of  this  world,  had  ceased  to  vary 
their  expression  materially  for  the  sake  of  any  human  inter- 
est. All  this  had  been  expected  of  him,  and  he  had  simply 
done  his  best  to  meet  the  requirements  of  the  flock  over 
which  he  was  placed.  Any  of  the  latter  might  have  easily 
been  shrewd  enough  to  guess,  in  advance,  very  nearly  what 
the  pastor  would  say,  upon  a  given  occasion  ;  but  each  and 
all  of  them  would  have  been  both  disappointed  and  dis- 
turbed if  he  had  not  said  it. 

After  appropriate  and  sympathetic  inquiries  concerning 
Joseph's  bodily  condition,  he  proceeded  to  probe  him  spiri- 
tually. 


98  JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FRIEND. 

"  It  was  a  merciful  preservation.  I  hope  you  feel  that  it 
is  a  solemn  thing  to  look  Death  in  the  face." 

**  I  am  not  afraid  of  death,"  Joseph  replied. 

"  You  mean  the  physical  pang.  But  death  includes  what 
comes  after  it,— judgment.  That  is  a  very  awful  thought." 

"  It  may  be  to  evil  men ;  but  I  have  done  nothing  to 
make  me  fear  it." 

"  You  have  never  made  an  open  profession  of  faith  ;  yet 
it  may  be  that  grace  has  reached  you,"  said  Mr.  Chaffinch. 
"  Have  you  found  your  Saviour  ?  " 

"  I  believe  in  him  with  all  my  soul !  "  Joseph  exclaimed  ; 
"  but  you  mean  something  else  by  '  finding '  him.  I  will  be 
candid  with  you,  Mr.  Chaffinch.  The  last  sermon  I  heard 
you  preach,  a  month  ago,  was  upon  the  nullity  of  all  good 
works,  all  Christian  deeds ;  you  called  them  '  rags,  dust,  and 
ashes,'  and  declared  that  man  is  saved  by  faith  alone.  I 
liave  faith,  but  I  can't  accept  a  doctrine  which  denies  merit 
to  works  ;  and  you,  unless  I  accept  it,  will  you  admit  that  I 
have  'found'  Christ?" 

"  There  is  but  One  Truth  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Chaffinch, 
very  severely. 

"  Yes,"  Joseph  answered,  reverently,  "  and  that  is  only 
perfectly  known  to  God." 

The  clergyman  was  more  deeply  annoyed  than  he  cared  to 
exhibit.  His  experience  had  been  confined  chiefly  to  the 
encouragement  of  ignorant  souls,  willing  to  accept  his  mes- 
sage, if  they  could  only  be  made  to  comprehend  it,  or  to  the 
conflict  with  downright  doubt  and  denial.  A  nature  so 
seemingly  open  to  the  influences  of  the  Spirit,  yet  inflexibly 
closed  to  certain  points  of  doctrine,  was  something  of  a 
problem  to  him.  He  belonged  to  a  class  now  happily  be- 
coming scarce,  who,  having  been  taught  to  pace  a  reasoned 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FKIEND.  90 

theological  round,  can  only  efficiently  meet  those  antagonist* 
who  voluntarily  come  inside  of  their  own  ring. 

His  habit  of  control,  however,  enabled  him  to  say,  with  a 
moderately  friendly  manner,  as  he  took  leave :  "  We  will 
talk  again  when  you  are  stronger.  It  is  my  duty  to  give 
spiritual  help  to  those  who  seek  it." 

To  Rachel  Miller  he  said  :  "  1  cannot  say  that  he  is  dark. 
His  mind  is  cloudy,  but  we  find  that  the  vanities  of  youth 
often  obscure  the  true  light  for  a  time." 

Joseph  leaned  back  in  his  arm-chair,  closed  his  eyes,  and 
meditated  earnestly  for  half  an  hour.  Rachel  Miller,  uncer- 
tain whether  to  be  hopeful  or  discouraged  by  Mr.  Chaffinch's 
words,  stole  into  the  room,  but  went  about  on  tiptoe,  sup 
posing  him  to  be  asleep.  Joseph  was  fully  conscious  of  all 
her  movements,  and  at  last  startled  her  by  the  sudden 
question : — 

"  Aunt,  why  do  you  suppose  I  went  to  the  city  ?  " 

"  Goodness,  Joseph !  I  thought  you  were  sound  asleep. 
I  suppose  to  see  about  the  fall  prices  for  grain  and  cattle." 

"  No,  aunt,"  said  he,  speaking  with  determination, 
though  the  foolish  blood  ran  rosily  over  his  face,  "  I  wenl 
to  get  a  wife ! " 

She  stood  pale  and  speechless,  staring  at  him.  But  for 
the  rosy  sign  on  his  cheeks  and  temples  she  could  not  have 
believed  his  words. 

"  Miss  Blessing  ?  "  she  finally  uttered,  almost  in  a  whisper. 

Joseph  nodded  his  head.  She  dropped  into  the  nearest 
chair,  drew  two  or  three  long  breaths,  and  in  an  indescriba- 
ble tone  ejaculated,  "Well !  " 

"  I  knew  you  would  be  surprised,"  said  he  ;  "  because  it 
is  almost  a  surprise  to  myself.  But  you  and  she  seemed  to 
fall  so  easily  into  each  other's  ways,  that  I  hope —  " 


100  J08KPH   AND   HIS   FEIEND. 

*'  Why,  you're  hardly  acquainted  with  her !  "  Rachel  ex 
claimed.     "  It  is  so  hasty  !     And  you  are  so  young  ! " 

"  No  3  ounger  than  father  was  when  he  married  mother 
and  I  have  learned  to  know  her  well  in  a  short  time.     Isn't 
it  so  with  you,  too,  aunt  ? — you  certainly  liked  her?  " 

"  I'll  not  deny  that,  nor  say  the  reverse  now :  but  a  farm 
er's  wife  should  be  a  farmer's  daxighter." 

"  But  suppose,  aunt,  that  the  farmer  doesn't  happen  to 
love  any  farmer's  daughter,  and  does  love  a  bright,  amiable, 
very  intelligent  girl,  who  is  delighted  with  country  life, 
eager  and  willing  to  learn,  and  very  fond  of  the  farmer's 
aunt  (who  can  teach  her  everything)  ?  " 

"  Still,  it  seems  to  me  a  risk,"  said  Rachel ;  but  she  waa 
evidently  relenting. 

t(  There  is  none  to  you,"  he  answered,  "  and  I  am  not 
afraid  of  mine.  You  will  be  with  us,  for  Julia  couldn't  do 
without  you,  if  she  wished.  If  she  were  a  farmer's  (laugh- 
ter, with  different  ideas  of  housekeeping,  it  might  bring 
trouble  to  both  of  us.  But  now  you  will  have  the  manage- 
ment in  your  own  hands  until  you  have  taught  Julia,  and 
afterwards  she  will  carry  it  on  in  your  way." 

She  did  not  reply  ;  but  Joseph  could  see  that  she  was  be- 
coming reconciled  to  the  prospect.  After  awhile  she  cam« 
across  the  room,  leaned  over  him,  kissed  him  upon  the  fore 
head,  and  then  siler  :ly  went  away. 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FBIEKD.  101 


CHAPTER  X, 

APPROACHING  FATE. 

ONLY  two  months  intervened  until  the  time  appointed  for 
the  marriage,  and  the  days  rolled  swiftly  away.  A  few  lines 
came  to  Joseph  from  Philip  Held,  announcing  that  he  waa 
satisfied  with  the  forge  and  furnace,  and  the  sale  would 
doubtless  be  consummated  in  a  short  time.  He  did  not, 
however,  expect  to  take  charge  of  the  works  before  March, 
and  therefore  gave  Joseph  his  address  in  the  city,  with  the 
hope  that  the  latter  would  either  visit  or  write  to  him. 

On  the  Sunday  after  the  accident  Elwood  Withers  came 
to  the  farm.  He  seemed  to  have  grown  older  in  the  short 
time  which  had  elapsed  since  they  had  last  met ;  after  his  first 
hearty  rejoicing  over  Joseph's  escape  and  recovery,  he  re- 
lapsed into  a  silent  but  not  unfriendly  mood.  The  two  young 
men  climbed  the  long  hill  behind  the  house  and  seated  them- 
selves under  a  noble  pin-oak  on  the  height,  whence  there  was 
a  lovely  view  of  the  valley  for  many  miles  to  the  southward. 

They  talked  mechanically,  for  a  while,  of  the  season,  and 
the  crops,  and  the  other  usual  subjects  which  farmers  never 
get  to  the  end  of  discussing ;  but  both  felt  the  impendence 
of  more  important  themes,  and,  nevertheless,  were  slow  to 
approach  them.  At  last  Elwood  said  :  "  Your  fate  is  settled 
by  this  time,  I  suppose?" 

"  It  is  arranged,  at  least,"  Joseph  replied.  "  But  I  can't 
yet  make  clear  to  myself  that  I  shall  be  a  married  man  ia 
two  months  from  now." 


102  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  Does  the  time  seem  long  to  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  Joseph  innocently  answered  ;  "  it  is  very  short.*' 

Elwood  turned  away  his  head  to  conceal  a  melancholy 
smile ;  it  was  a  few  minutes  before  he  spoke  again. 

"  Joseph,"  he  then  said,  "  are  you  sure,  quite  sure,  you 
love  her  ?  " 

"  I  am  to  marry  her." 

"  I  meant  nothing  unfriendly,"  Elwood  remarked,  in  a 
gentle  tone.  "  My  thought  was  this, — if  you  should  ever 
find  a  still  stronger  love  growing  upon  you, — something  that 
would  make  the  warmth  you  feel  now  seem  like  ice  compared 
t*>  it, — how  would  you  be  able  to  fight  it  ?  I  asked  the  ques- 
tion of  myself  for  you.  I  don't  think  I'm  much  different 
from  most  soft-hearted  men, — except  that  I  keep  the  softness 
so  well  stowed  away  that  few  persons  know  of  it, — but  if  I 
were  in  your  place,  within  two  months  of  marriage  to  the 
girl  I  love,  I  should  be  miserable  ! " 

Joseph  turned  towards  him  with  wide,  astonished  eyes. 

"  Miserable  from  hope  and  fear,"  Elwood  went  on ;  "I 
should  be  afraid  of  fever,  fire,  murder,  thunderbolts  !  Every 
hour  of  the  day  I  should  dread  lest  something  might  come 
between  ns ;  I  should  prowl  around  her  house  day  after  day, 
to  be  sure  that  she  was  alive  !  I  should  lengthen  out  the 
time  into  years ;  and  all  because  I'm  a  great,  disappointed, 
soft-hearted  fool !  " 

The  sad,  yearning  expression  of  his  e^es  touched  Joseph 
to  the  heart.  "  Elwood,"  he  said,  "  I  see  that  it  is  not  in 
my  power  to  comfort  you ;  if  I  give  you  pain  unknowingly, 
tell  me  how  to  avoid  it !  I  meant  to  ask  you  to  stand  be- 
side me  when  I  am  married  ;  but  now  you  must  consider 
your  own  feelings  in  answering,  not  mine.  Lucy  is  not 
likely  to  be  there." 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  103 

"  That  would  make  no  difference,"  El  wood  answered.  "  DC 
you  suppose  it  is  a  pain  for  me  to  nee  her,  because  she  seems 
lost  to  me  ?  No  ;  I'm  always  a  little  encouraged  when  I  have 
a  chance  to  measure  myself  with  her,  and  to  guess — Bometimea 
this  and  sometimes  that — what  it  is  that  she  needs  to  find  in 
me.  Force  of  will  is  of  no  use ;  as  to  faithfulness, — why,  what 
it's  worth  can't  be  shown  unless  something  turns  up  to  try 
it.  But  you  had  better  not  ask  me  to  be  your  groomsman. 
Neither  Miss  Blessing  nor  her  sister  would  be  overly 
pleased." 

"  Why  so  ? "  Joseph  asked ;  "  Julia  and  you  are  quite 
well  acquainted,  and  she  was  always  friendly  towards  you." 

Elwood  was  silent  and  embarrassed.  Then,  reflecting  that 
silence,  at  that  moment,  might  express  even  more  than 
speech,  he  said  :  "  I've  got  the  notion  in  my  head ;  maybe 
it's  foolish,  but  there  it  is.  I  talked  a  good  deal  with 
Miss  Blessing,  it's  true,  and  yet  I  don't  feel  the  least  bit 
acquainted.  Her  manner  to  me  was  very  friendly,  and  yet 
I  don't  think  she  likes  me." 

"  Well  !  "  exclaimed  Joseph,  forcing  a  laugh,  though  he 
was  much  annoyed,  "  I  never  gave  you  credit  for  such  a 
lively  imagination.  Why  not  be  candid,  and  admit  that  the 
dislike  is  on  your  side  ?  I  am  sorry  for  it,  since  Julia  will 
so  soon  be  in  the  house  there  as  my  wife.  There  is  no  one 
else  whom  I  can  ask,  unless  it  were  Philip  Held — " 

"  Held  !  To  be  sure,  he  took  care  of  you.  I  was  at  Cov- 
entry the  day  after,  and  saw  something  of  him."  With 
these  words,  Elwood  turned  towards  Joseph  and  looked  him 
squarely  in  the  face.  "  He'll  have  charge  there  in  a  few 
months,  I  hear,"  he  then  said,  "  and  I  reckon  it  as  a  piece 
of  good  luck  for  you.  I've  found  that  there  are  men,  all, 
maybe,  as  honest  and  outspoken  as  they  need  be  ;  yet  two  of 


1  04  JOSEPH   AND   HIS  FBIEND. 

'em  will  talk  at  different  marks  and  never  fully  understand 
each  other,  and  other  two  will  naturally  talk  right  straight 
at  the  same  mark  and  never  miss.  Now,  Held  is  the  sort  that 
can  hit  the  thing  in  the  mind  of  the  man  they're  talking  to 
it's  a  gift  that  comes  o'  being  knocked  about  the  world 
among  all  classes  of  people.  What  we  learn  here,  always 
among  the  same  folks,  isn't  a  circumstance." 

"  Then  you  think  I  might  ask  him  ? "  said  Joseph,  not 
fully  comprehending  all  that  Elwood  meant  to  express. 

"  He's  one  of  those  men  that  you're  safe  in  asking  to  do 
anything.  Make  him  spokesman  of  a  committee  to  wait  on 
the  President,  arbitrator  in  a  crooked  lawsuit,  overseer  of  a 
railroad  gang,  leader  in  a  prayer-meeting  (if  he'd  consent), 
or  whatever  else  you  choose,  and  he'll  do  the  business  as  if 
he  was  used  to  it !  It's  enough  for  you  that  I  don't  know 
the  town  ways,  and  he  does;  it's  considered  worse,  I've 
heard,  to  make  a  blunder  in  society  than  to  commit  a  real  sin." 

He  rose,  and  they  loitered  down  the  hill  together.  The 
subject  was  quietly  dropped,  but  the  minds  of  both  were 
none  the  less  busy.  They  felt  the  stir  and  pressure  of  new 
experiences,  which  had  come  to  one  through  disappointment 
and  to  the  other  through  success.  Not  three  months  had 
passed  since  they  rode  together  through  the  twilight  to  War- 
riner's,  and  already  life  was  opening  to  them, — but  how  dif- 
ferently !  Joseph  endeavored  to  make  the  most  kindly  allow- 
ance for  his  friend's  mood,  and  to  persuade  himself  that  his 
feelings  were  unchanged.  Elwood,  however,  knew  that  a 
shadow  had  fallen  between  them.  It  was  nothing  beside  the 
cloud  of  his  greater  trouble  :  he  also  knew  the  cost  of  his  own 
justification  to  Joseph,  and  prayed  that  it  might  never  come. 

That  evening,  on  taking  leave,  he  said :  "  I  don't  know 
whether  you  meant  to  have  the  news  of  TOUT  engagement 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  105 

circulated ;  but  I  guess  Anna  "Warriner  has  heard,  and  that 
amounts  to — " 

"  To  telling  it  to  the  whole  neighborhood,  doesn't  it  ?  " 
Joseph  answered.  "  Then  the  mischief  is  already  done,  if  it 
is  a  mischief.  It  is  well,  therefore,  that  the  day  is  set :  the 
neighborhood  will  have  little  time  for  gossip." 

He  smiled  so  frankly  and  cheerfully,  that  Elwood  seized 
his  hand,  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  said  :  "  Don't  remember 
anything  against  me,  Joseph.  I've  always  been  honestly 
your  friend,  and  mean  to  stay  so." 

He  went  that  evening  to  a  homestead  where  he  knew  he 
should  find  Lucy  Henderson.  She  looked  pale  and  fatigued, 
he  thought ;  possibly  his  presence  had  become  a  restraint.  If 
so,  she  must  bear  his  unkindness :  it  was  the  only  sacrifice 
he  could  not  make,  for  he  felt  sure  that  his  intercourse  with 
her  must  either  terminate  in  hate  or  love.  The  one  thing  oi 
which  he  was  certain  was,  that  there  could  be  no  calm,  com- 
placent friendship  between  them. 

It  was  not  long  before  one  of  the  family  asked  him  whether 
he  had  heard  the  news ;  it  seemed  that  they  had  already  dis* 
cussed  it,  and  his  arrival  revived  the  flow  of  expression.  ID 
spite  of  his  determination,  he  found  it  impossible  to  watch 
Lucy  while  he  said,  as  simply  as  possible,  that  Joseph  Asten 
Beemed  very  happy  over  the  prospect  of  the  marriage  ;  that 
he  was  old  enough  to  take  a  wife  ;  and  if  Miss  Blessing  could 
adapt  herself  to  country  habits,  they  might  get  on  very  well 
together.  But  later  in  the  evening  he  took  a  chance  of  say- 
ing to  her :  "  In  spite  of  what  I  said,  Lucy,  I  don't  feel 
quite  easy  about  Joseph's  marriage.  What  do  yon  think  of 
it?" 

She  smiled  faintly,  as  she  replied :  "  Some  say  that  people 

are  attracted  by  nr  tual  unlikeness.     This  seems  to  me  to  b« 
5* 


106  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

a  case  of  the  kind ;  but  they  are  free  choosers  of  their  own 
fates." 

"  Is  there  no  possible  way  of  persuading  him — them — to 
delay?" 

"  No  1  n  she  exclaimed,  with  unusual  energy ;  "  none 
whatever ! n 

Elwood  sighed,  and  yet  felt  relieved. 

Joseph  lost  no  time  in  writing  to  Philip  Held,  announc 
ing  his  approaching  marriage,  and  begging  him — with  many 
apologies  for  asking  such  a  mark  of  confidence  on  so  short 
an  acquaintance — to  act  the  part  of  nearest  friend,  if  there 
were  no  other  private  reasons  to  prevent  him. 

Four  or  five  days  later  the  following  answer  arrived  : — 

MY  DEAR  ASTEN  : — Do  you  remember  that  curious  whirl- 
ing, falling  sensation,  when  the  car  pitched  over  the  edge  of 
the  embankment  ?  I  felt  a  return  of  it  on  reading  your  letter  ; 
for  you  have  surprised  me  beyond  measure.  Not  by  your 
request,  for  that  is  just  what  I  should  have  expected  of  you ; 
and  as  well  now,  as  if  we  had  known  each  other  for  twenty 
years ;  so  the  apology  is  the  only  thing  objectionable —  But 
I  am  tangling  my  sentences  ;  I  want  to  say  how  heartily  I  re- 
turn the  feeling  which  prompted  you  to  ask  me,  and  yet  how 
embarrassed  I  am  that  I  cannot  unconditionally  say,  "Yes, 
with  all  my  heart !  "  My  great,  astounding  surprise  is,  to 
find  you  about  to  be  married  to  Miss  Julia  Blessing, — a 
young  lady  whom  I  once  knew.  And  the  embarrassment  is 
this :  I  knew  her  under  circumstances  (in  which  she  was  not 
personally  concerned,  however)  which  might  possibly  render 
my  presence  now,  as  your  groomsman,  unwelcome  to  the 
family :  at  least,  it  is  my  duty — and  yours,  if  you  still 
desire  me  to  stand  beside  you — to  let  Miss  Blessing  and  he» 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIEND.  1(VJ 

family  decide  the  question.  The  circumstances  to  which  1 
refer  concern  them  rather  than  myself.  I  think  your  bost 
plan  will  be  simply  to  inform  them  of  your  request  and  my 
reply,  and  add  that  I  am  entirely  ready  to  accept  whatever 
course  they  may  prefer. 

Pray  don't  consider  that  I  have  treated  your  first  letter  to 
me  ungraciously.  I  am  more  grieved  than  you  can  imagine 
that  it  happens  so.  You  will  probably  come  to  the  city  a 
day  before  the  wedding,  and  I  insist  that  you  shall  share  my 
bachelor  quarters,  in  any  case. 

Always  your  friend, 

PHILIP  HELD. 


This  letter  threw  Joseph  into  a  new  perplexity.  Philip  a 
former  acquaintance  of  the  Blessings  !  Formerly,  but  not 
now ;  and  what  could  those  mysterious  "  circumstances " 
have  been,  which  had  so  seriously  interrupted  their  inter- 
course ?  It  was  quite  useless  to  conjecture ;  but  he  could 
not  resist  the  feeling  that  another  shadow  hung  over  the  as- 
pects of  his  future.  Perhaps  he  had  exaggerated  Elwood's 
unaccountable  dislike  to  Julia,  which  had  only  been  im- 
plied, not  spoken  ;  but  here  was  a  positive  estrangement  on 
the  part  of  the  man  who  was  so  suddenly  near  and  dear  to 
him.  He  never  thought  of  suspecting  Philip  of  blame ;  the 
candor  and  cheery  warmth  of  the  letter  rejoiced  his  heart. 
There  was  evidently  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  follow  the 
advice  contained  in  it,  and  leave  the  question  to  the  decision 
of  Julia  and  her  parents. 

Her  reply  did  not  come  by  the  return  mail,  nor  until 
nearly  a  week  afterwards ;  during  which  time  he  tormented 
himself  by  imagining  the  wildest  reasons  for  her  silence 


108  JOSEPH   AND   1118   FRIEND. 

When  the  letter  at  last  arrived,  he  had  some  difficulty  in 
comprehending  its  import. 

"  Dearest  Joseph,"  she  said,  "  you  must  really  forgive  me 
this  long  trial  of  yovir  patience.  Your  letter  was  so  unex- 
pected,— I  mean  its  contents, — and  it  seems  as  if  ma  and  pa 
and  Clementina  would  never  agree  what  was  best  to  be  done. 
For  that  matter,  I  cannot  say  that  they  agree  now ;  we  had 
no  idea  that  you  were  an  intimate  friend  of  Mr.  Held,  (I 
can't  think  how  ever  you  should  have  become  acquainted  !) 
and  it  seems  to  break  open  old  wounds, — none  of  mine,  for- 
tunately, for  I  have  none.  As  Mr.  Held  leaves  the  question 
in  our  hands,  there  is,  you  will  understand,  all  the  more  ne- 
cessity that  we  should  be  carefuL  Ma  thinks  he  has  said 
nothing  to  you  about  the  unfortunate  occurrence,  or  you 
would  have  expressed  an  opinion.  You  never  can  know  how 
happy  your  fidelity  makes  me  ;  but  T  felt  that,  the  first  mo 
ment  we  met. 

"  Ma  says  that  at  very  private  (what  pa  calls  informal) 
weddings  there  need  not  be  bridesmaids  or  groomsmen 
Miss  Morrisey  was  married  that  way,  not  long  ago ;  it  is  trui 
that  she  is  not  of  our  circle,  nor  strictly  a  first  family  (thr 
is  ma's  view,  not  mine,  for  T  understand  the  hollowness  ol 
society) ;  but  we  could  very  well  do  the  same.  Pa  would  bt> 
satisfied  with  a  reception  afterwards ;  he  wants  to  ask  the 
Collector,  and  the  Surveyor,  and  the  Appraiser.  Clementina 
won't  say  anything  now,  but  I  know  what  she  thinks,  and 
so  does  ma ;  however,  Mr.  Held  has  so  dropped  out  of  city 
life  that  it  is  not  important.  I  suppose  everything  must  be 
dim  in  his  memory  now ;  you  do  not  write  to  me  much  that 
he  related.  How  strange  that  he  should  be  your  friend  ! 
They  say  my  dress  is  lovely,  but  I  am  sure  I  should  like  a 
olain  muslin  just  as  well.  I  shall  only  breatl  >  freely  when 


JOSKPII    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  109 

I  get  back  to  the  quiet  of  the  country,  (and  youi1  — ow 
charming  home,  and  dear,  good  Aunt  Rachel !)  and  awaj 
from  all  these  conventional  forma.  Ma  says  if  there  is  one 
groomsman  there  oiight  to  be  two ;  either  very  simple,  01 
according  to  custom.  In  a  matter  so  delicate,  perhaps,  Mr. 
Held  would  be  as  competent  to  decide  as  we  are ;  at  least  1 
am  quile  willing  to  leave  it  to  his  judgment.  But  how  tri- 
fling is  all  this  discussion,  compared  with  the  importance  of 
the  day  to  us  !  It  is  now  drawing  very  near,  but  I  have  no 
misgivings,  for  I  confide  in  you  wholly  and  forever ! " 

After  reading  the  letter  with  as  much  coolness  as  waa 
then  possible  to  him,  Joseph  inferred  three  things :  that  his 
acquaintance  with  Philip  Held  was  not  entirely  agreeable  to 
the  Blessing  family ;  that  they  would  prefer  the  simplest 
style  of  a  wedding,  and  this  was  in  consonance  with  his  own 
tastes  ;  and  that  Julia  clung  to  him  as  a  deliverer  from  con- 
ditions with  which  her  nature  had  little  sympathy.  Her 
incoherence,  he  fancied,  arose  from  an  agitation  which  he 
could  very  well  understand,  and  his  answer  was  intended  to 
soothe  and  encourage  her.  It  was  difficult  to  let  Philip 
know  that  his  services  would  not  be  required,  without  im- 
plying the  existence  of  an  unfriendly  feeling  towards 
him ;  and  Joseph,  therefore,  all  the  more  readily  accepted 
his  invitation.  He  was  assxired  that  the  mysterious  difficulty 
did  not  concern  Julia ;  even  if  it  were  so,  he  was  not  called 
upon  to  do  violence,  without  cause,  to  so  welcome  a  friendship. 

The  September  days  sped  by,  not  with  the  lingering,  pas- 
sionate uncertainty  of  which  Elwood  Withers  spoke,  but 
almost  too  swiftly.  In  the  hurry  of  preparation,  Joseph  had 
scarcely  time  to  look  beyond  the  coming  event  and  estimate 
its  consequences.  He  was  too  ignorant  of  himself  to  doubt: 
his  conscience  was  too  pure  and  perfect  to  admit  the  possi- 


110  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

bility  of  changing  the  course  of  his  destiny.  Whatever  the 
gossip  of  the  neighborhood  might  have  been,  he  heard 
nothing  of  it  that  was  not  agreeable.  His  aunt  was  entire- 
ly  reconciled  to  a  wife  who  would  not  immediately,  and 
probably  not  for  a  long  time,  interfere  with  her  authority; 
and  the  shadows  raised  by  the  two  men  whom  he  loved  best 
seemed,  at  last,  to  be  accidentally  thrown  from  clouds  beyond 
the  horizon  of  his  life.  This  was  the  thought  to  which  he 
clung,  in  spite  of  a  vague,  utterly  formless  apprehension, 
which  he  felt  lurking  somewhere  in  the  very  bottom  of  his 
heart. 

Philip  met  him  on  his  arrival  in  the  city,  and  after  tak- 
ing him  to  his  pleasant  quarters,  in  a  house  looking  on  one 
of  the  leafy  squares,  good-naturedly  sent  him  to  the  Blessing 
mansion,  with  a  warning  to  return  before  the  evening  was 
quite  spent.  The  family  was  in  a  flutter  of  preparation* 
and  though  he  was  cordially  welcomed,  he  felt  that,  to  all 
jxcept  Julia,  he  was  subordinate  in  interest  to  the  men  who 
came  every  quarter  of  an  hour,  bringing  bouquets,  and  silver 
spoons  with  cards  attached,  and  pasteboard  boxes  containing 
frosted  cakes.  Even  Julia's  society  he  was  only  allowed  to 
enjoy  by  scanty  instalments  ;  she  was  perpetually  summoned 
by  her  mother  or  Clementina,  to  consult  about  some  inde- 
scribable figment  of  dress.  Mr.  Blessing  was  occupied  in 
the  basement,  with  the  inspection  of  various  hampers.  He 
came  to  the  drawing-room  to  greet  Joseph,  whom  he  shook 
by  both  hands,  with  such  incoherent  phrases  that  Julia 
presently  interposed.  "  You  must  not  forget,  pa,"  she  said, 
M  that  the  man  is  waiting :  Joseph  will  excuse  you,  I  know." 
She  followed  him  to  the  basement,  and  he  returned  nc 
aaore. 

Joseph  left  early  in  the  evening,  cheered  by  Julia's  words  • 


JOtEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  1H 

u  We  can't  complain  of  all  this  confusion,  when  it's  for  om 
Bakes ;  but  we'll  be  happier  when  it's  over,  won't  we  ?  n 

He  gave  her  an  affinnative  kiss,  and  returned  to  Philip's 
room.  That  gentleman  was  comfortably  disposed  in  an  arm- 
chair, with  a  book  and  a  cigar.  "  Ah  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  you 
find  that  a  house  is  more  agreeable  any  evening  than  th^ 
before  the  wedding  ?  " 

"  There  is  one  compensation,"  said  Joseph  ;  "  it  gives  me 
two  or  three  hours  with  you." 

"  Then  take  that  other  arm-chair,  and  tell  me  how  this  came 
to  pass.  You  see  I  have  the  curiosity  of  a  neighbor,  already." 

He  listened  earnestly  while  Joseph  related  the  story  of  his 
love,  occasionally  asking  a  question  or  making  a  suggestive 
remark,  but  so  gently  that  it  seemed  to  come  as  an  assistance. 
When  all  had  been  told,  he  rose  and  commenced  walking 
slowly  up  and  down  the  room.  Joseph  longed  to  ask,  in 
turn,  for  an  explanation  of  the  circumstances  mentioned  in 
Philip's  letter ;  but  a  doubt  checked  his  tongue. 

As  if  in  response  to  his  thought,  Philip  stopped  before 
him  and  said  :  "  I  owe  you  my  story,  and  you  snail  have  it 
after  a  while,  when  I  can  tell  you  more.  I  was  a  young  fel- 
low of  twenty  wheu  I  knew  the  Blessings,  and  I  don't  at- 
tach the  slightest  importance,  now,  to  anything  that  happened. 
Even  if  I  did,  Miss  Julia  had  no  share  in  it.  I  remember  her 
distinctly ;  she  was  then  about  my  age,  or  a  year  or  two  older ; 
but  hers  is  a,  face  that  would  not  change  in  a  long  while." 

Joseph  stared  at  his  friend  in  silence.  He  recalled  the  lat- 
ter's  age,  and  was  startled  by  the  involuntary  arithmetic 
which  revealed  Julia's  to  him.  It  was  unexpected,  unwel- 
come, yet  inevitable. 

"  Her  father  had  been  lucky  in  some  of  his  *  operations,' " 
Philip  continued,  "but  I  don't  think  he  kept  it  long.  I 


112  JOSEPH    AND  ras  FRIEND. 

hardly  wouder  that  she  should  come  to  prefer  a  quiet  conn 
try  life  to  such  ups  and  downs  as  the  family  has  known. 
Generally,  a  woman  don't  adapt  herself  so  readily  to  a  change 
of  surroundings  as  a  man :  where  there  is  love,  however, 
everything  is  possible." 

"  There  is !  there  is  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed,  certifying  the 
fact  to  himself  as  much  as  to  his  friend.  He  rose  and  stood 
oeside  him. 

Philip  looked  at  him  with  grave,  tender  eyes. 

"  What  can  I  do  ?"  he  said. 

"  What  should  you  do  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 

"  This !  "  Philip  exclaimed,  laying  his  hands  on  Joseph's 
shoulders, — "  this,  Joseph  !  I  can  be  nearer  than  a  brother. 
I  know  that  I  am  in  your  heart  as  you  are  in  mine.  There 
is  no  faith  between  us  that  need  be  limited,  there  is  no  truth 
too  secret  to  be  veiled.  A  man's  perfect  friendship  is  rarei 
than  a  woman's  love,  and  most  hearts  are  content  with  one 
or  the  other :  not  so  with  yours  and  mine  !  I  read  it  iu 
your  eyes,  when  you  opened  them  on  my  knee:  I  see  it  in 
your  face  now.  Don't  speak :  let  us  clasp  hands." 

Bat  Joseph  could  not  speak. 


JOSEPH   A1TO   HIS   FKEEND  113 


CHAPTER  XL 

A     CITY     WEDDING. 

THERE  was  not  much  of  the  happy  bridegoom  to  be  seec 
in  Joseph's  face  when  he  arose  the  next  morning.  To  Phil- 
ip's eyes  he  appeared  to  have  suddenly  grown  several  years 
older ;  his  features  had  lost  their  boyish  softness  and  sweet- 
ness, which  would  thenceforth  never  wholly  come  back 
again.  He  spoke  but  little,  and  went  about  his  preparation 
with  an  abstracted,  mechanical  air,  which  told  how  much 
his  mind  was  preoccupied.  Philip  quietly  assisted,  and 
^hen  all  was  complete,  led  him  before  the  mirror. 

"There!"  he  said;  "now  study  the  general  effect;  1 
think  nothing  more  is  wanting." 

"  It  hardly  looks  like  myself,"  Joseph  remarked,  after  a 
careless  inspection. 

"In  all  the  weddings  I  have  seen,"  said  Philip,  "the 
bridegrooms  were  pale  and  grave,  the  brides  flushed  and 
trembling.  You  will  not  make  an  exception  to  the  rule ; 
but  it  is  a  solemn  thing,  and  I — don't  misunderstand  me, 
Joseph — I  almost  wish  you  were  not  to  be  married  to-day." 

"Philip!"  Joseph  exclaimed,  "let  me  think,  now,  at 
least, — now,  at  the  last  moment, — that  it  is  best  for  me! 
If  you  knew  how  cramped,  restricted,  fettered,  my  life  has 
been,  and  how  much  emancipation  has  already  come  with 
this — this  love  1  Perhaps  my  marriage  is  a  venture,  but  it 
is  one  which  must  be  made ;  and  no  consequence  of  it  shall 
ever  come  between  us  1 " 


I]  4  jGSEPU    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

"  No ,  and  I  ought  not  to  have  spoken  a  word  that  mighl 
imply  a  doubt.  It  may  be  that  your  emancipation,  as  you 
rightly  term  it,  can  only  come  in  this  way.  My  life  haa 
been  so  different,  that  I  am  unconsciously  putting  myself  in 
your  place,  instead  of  trying  to  look  with  your  eyes.  When 
I  next  go  to  Coventry  Forge,  I  shall  drive  over  and  dine  with 
you,  and  I  hope  your  Julia  will  be  as  ready  to  receive  me  as  a 
friend  as  I  am  to  find  one  in*  her.  There  is  the  carriage  at 
the  door,  and  you  had  better  arrive  a  little  before  the  appoint- 
ed hour.  Take  only  my  g<3od  wishes,  my  prayers  for  your 
happiness,  along  with  you, — and  now,  God  bless  you,  Joseph !" 

The  carriage  rolled  away.  Joseph,  in  full  wedding  cos- 
tume, was  painfully  conscious  of  the  curious  glances  which 
fell  upon  him,  and  presently  pulled  down  the  curtains. 
Then,  with  an  impatient  self-reprimand,  he  pulled  them  up 
again,  lowered  the  window,  and  let  the  air  blow  upon  his 
hot  cheeks.  The  house  was  speedily  reached,  and  he  was 
admitted  by  a  festive  waiter  (hired  for  the  occasion)  before 
he  had  been  exposed  for  more  than  five  seconds  to  the  gaze 
of  curious  eyes  in  all  the  windows  around. 

Mrs.  Blessing,  resplendent  in  purple,  and  so  bedight  that 
she  seemed  almost  as  young  as  her  portrait,  swept  into  the 
drawing-room.  She  inspected  him  rapidly,  and  approved, 
while  advancing ;  otherwise  he  would  scarcely  have  received 
the  thin,  dry  kiss  with  which  she  favored  him. 

"  It  lacks  half  an  hour,"  she  said ;  "  but  you  have  the 
usua*  impatience  of  a  bridegroom.  L  am  accustomed  to  it. 
Mr.  Blessing  is  still  in  his  room ;  he  has  only  just  commenc- 
ed arranging  his  cambric  cravat,  which  is  a  work  of  time. 
He  cannot  forget  that  he  was  distinguished  for  an  elegant 
tie  in  his  youth.  Clementina," — as  that  young  lady  entered 
the  room, — "  is  the  brile  completely  attired  ?  " 


JOSEPH    AND   TII8    FRIEND.  115 

"  A.11  but  her  gloves,"  replied  Clementina,  offering  three 
fourths  of  her  hand  to  Joseph.  "  And  she  don't  know  whai 
ear-rings  to  wear." 

"  I  think  we  might  venture,"  Mrs.  Blessing  remarked 
u  as  there  seems  to  be  no  rule  applicable  to  the  case,  to  allow 
Mr.  Asten  a  sight  of  his  bride.  Perhaps  his  taste  might  assist 
her  in  the  choice." 

Thereupon  she  conducted  Joseph  upstairs,  and,  after  some 
preliminary  whispering,  he  was  admitted  to  the  room.  He 
and  Julia  were  equally  surprised  at  the  change  in  each 
other's  appearance :  he  older,  paler,  with  a  grave  and  serious 
bearing;  she  younger,  brighter,  rounder,  fresher,  and  with 
the  loveliest  pink  flush  on  her  cheeks.  The  gloss  of  her 
hair  rivalled  that  of  the  white  satin  which  draped  her  form 
and  gave  grace  to  its  outlines ;  her  neck  and  shoulders  were 
slight,  but  no  one  could  have  justly  called  them  lean ;  and 
even  the  thinness  of  her  lips  was  forgotten  in  the  vivid  coral 
of  their  color,  and  the  nervous  life  which  hovered  about 
their  edges.  At  that  moment  she  was  certainly  beautiful, 
and  a  stranger  would  have  supposed  her  to  be  young. 

She  looked  into  Joseph's  face  with  a  smile  in  which  some 
appearance  of  maiden  shyness  yet  lingered.  A  shrewder 
bridegroom  would  have  understood  its  meaning,  and  would 
have  said,  "  How  lovely  you  are  !  "  Joseph,  it  is  true,  ex- 
perience (  a  sense  of  relief,  but  he  knew  not  why,  and  could 
not  for  his  life  have  put  it  into  words.  His  eyes  dwelt 
upon  afcl  followed  her,  and  she  seemed  to  be  satisfied  with 
that  form  of  recognition.  Mrs.  Blessing  inspected  the  dress 
with  a  severe  critical  eye,  pulling  out  a  fold  here  and 
smoothing  a  bit  of  lace  there,  until  nothing  further  cotild  be 
detecte  1.  Then,  the  adornment  of  the  victim  being  com- 
pleted,, the  sat  down  and  wept  moderately 


116  JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FKIEKD. 

"O  ma,  tiy  to  bear  up  !  "  Julia  exclaimed,  with  the  very 
slightest  touch  of  impatience  in  her  voice ;"  it  is  all  to  coma 
yet." 

There  -was  a  ring  at  the  door. 

"  It  must  be  your  aunt,"  said  Mrs.  Blessing,  drying  hei 
eyes.  "My  sister,"  she  added,  turning  to  Joseph, — Mrs. 
Woollish,  with  Mr.  Woollish  and  their  two  sons  and  one 
daughter.  He's  in  the — the  leather  trade,  so  to  speak, 
which  has  thrown  her  into  a  very  different  circle  ;  but,  as 
we  have  no  nearer  relations  in  the  city,  they  will  be  present 
at  the  ceremony.  He  is  said  to  be  wealthy.  I  have  no 
means  of  knowing;  but  one  would  scarcely  think  so,  to  judge 
from  his  wedding-gift  to  Julia." 

"  Ma,  why  should  you  mention  it  ?  " 

"  I  wish  to  enlighten  Mr.  Asten.  Six  pairs  of  shoes ! — 
of  course  all  of  the  same  pattern;  and  the  fashion  may 
change  in  another  year  !  " 

"  In  the  country  we  have  no  fashions  in  shoes,"  Joseph 
suggested. 

"  Certainly  !  "  said  Julia,  "  I  find  "Uncle  Woollish's 
present  very  practical  indeed." 

Mrs.  Blessing  looked  at  her  dau» liter,  and  said  notliiiiii'. 

Mr.  Blessing,  very  red  in  the  face,  but  with  triumphant 
cambric  about  his  throat,  entered  the  room,  <  mleavorinir  to 
get  his  fat  hands  into  a  pair  of  No.  (.)  <_  loves.  A  strong 

smell  of  turpentine  or  benzine  entered  \vlt.h  him. 

• 
"  Kliza,"  said  he,  "you  must  find  me  sum  >e..u  de  cologne. 

The  odor  left  from  my — my  rheumatic  remedy  is  still 
perceptible.  Indeed,  patelioiily  would  be  better,  if  it  were 
not  the  scent  peculiar  to  parri-im*." 

Clementina  came  to  say  that  the  clergyman's  carriage  had 
just  reached  the  door,  and  Mr.  Blessing  was  hurried  down 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  117 

stairs,  mopping  his  gloves  and  the  collar  of  his  coat  with 
liquid  fragrance  by  the  way.  Mrs.  Blessing  and  Clementina 
presently  followed. 

"  Julia,"  said  Joseph  when  they  were  quite  alone,  u  have 
you  thought  that  this  is  for  life  ?  " 

She  looked  up  with  a  tender  smile,  but  something  in  his 
face  arrested  it  on  her  lips. 

"I  have  lived  ignorantly  until  now,"  he  continued, — 
"innocently  and  ignorantly.  From  this  time  on  I  shall 
change  mote  than  you,  and  there  may  be,  years  hence,  a 
very  different  Joseph  Asten  from  the  one  whose  name  you 
will  take  to-day.  If  you  love  me  with  the  love  I  claim  from 
you, — the  love  that  grows  with  and  through  all  new  know- 
ledge and  experience, — there  will  be  no  discord  in  our  lives. 
We  must  both  be  liberal  and  considerate  towards  each 
other;  it  has  been  but  a  short  time  since  we  met,  and  we 
have  still  much  to  learn." 

"  O,  Joseph ! "  she  murmured,  in  a  tone  of  gentle 
reproach,  "  I  knew  your  nature  at  first  sight." 

"  I  hope  you  did,"  he  answered  gravely,  "  for  then  you 
will  be  able  to  see  its  needs,  and  help  me  to  supply  them. 
But,  Julia,  there  must  not  the  shadow  of  concealment  come 
between  us :  nothing  must  be  reserved.  I  understand  no 
love  that  does  not  include  perfect  trust.  I  must  draw 
nearer,  and  be  drawn  nearer  to  you,  constantly,  or — " 

He  paused ;  it  was  no  time  to  utter  the  further  sentence 
in  his  mind.  Julia  glided  to  him,  clasped  her  arms  about 
his  waist,  and  laid  her  head  against  his  shoulder.  Although 
she  said  nothing,  the  act  was  eloquent.  It  expressed 
acquiescence,  trust,  fidelity,  the  surrender  of  her  life  to  his, 
ami  no  man  in  his  situation  could  have  understood  it 
otherwise.  A  tenderness,  \\-liidi  .-reined  to  be  the  some- 


118  JO8EPU    AJSTD   HIS   FRIEND. 

thing  hitherto  lacking  to  his  love,  crept  softly  over  iiii 
heart,  and  the  lurking  unrest  began  to  fade  from  his  face. 

There  was  a  rustle  on  the  stairs ;  Clementina  and  Miss 
Woollish  made  their  appearance.  "Mr.  Bogue  has  ar- 
rived," whispered  the  former,  "  and  ma  thinks  you  should 
come  down  soon.  Are  you  entirely  ready?  I  don't  think 
you  need  the  salts,  Julia ;  but  you  might  carry  the  bottle  in 
your  left  hand :  brides  are  expected  to  be  nervous." 

She  gave  a  light  laugh,  like  the  purl  and  bubble  of  a 
brook ;  but  Joseph  shrank,  with  an  inward  chill,  from  the 
sound. 

"So!  shall  we  go?  Fanny  and  I — (I  beg  pardon;  Mr. 
Asten — Miss  Woollish) — will  lead  the  way.  We  will  stand 
a  little  in  the  rear,  not  beside  you,  as  there  are  no  grooms- 
men. Remember,  the  farther  end  of  the  room  !  " 

They  rustled  slowly  downward,  in  advance,  and  the  bridal 
pair  followed.  The  clergyman,  Mr.  Bogue,  suddenly  broke 
off  in  the  midst  of  an  oracular  remark  about  the  weatherj 
and,  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  awaited  them.  The 
other  members  of  the  two  families  were  seated,  and  ver} 
silent. 

Joseph  heard  the  introductory  remarks,  the  ceremony, 
and  the  final  benediction,  as  in  a  dream.  His  lips  opened 
mechanically,  and  a  voice  which  did  not  exactly  seem  to  be 
his  own  uttered  the  "I  will ! "  at  the  proper  time ;  yet,  in 
recalling  the  experience  afterwards,  he  was  unable  to  decide 
whether  any  definite  thought  or  memory  or  hope  had  passed 
through  his  mind.  From  his  entrance  into  the  room  until 
his  hand  was  violently  shaken  by  Mr.  Blessing,  there  was  a 
blank. 

Of  course  there  were  tears,  but  the  beams  of  congratula- 
tion shone  through  them,  and  they  saddened  nobody.  Misi 


JOSEPH    AM)    His    FRIEND. 

Fanny  NVoollish  assured  the  bridal  pair,  in  an  audible 
whisper,  that  she  had  never  seen  a  sweeter  wedding;  and  hei 
mother,  a  stout,  homely  little  body,  confirmed  the  opinion 
with,  "  Yes,  you  both  did  beautifully  !  "  Then  the  marriage 
certificate  was  produced  and  signed,  and  the  company  par- 
took of  wine  and  refreshments  to  strengthen  them  for  the 
reception. 

Until  there  had  been  half  a  dozen  arrivals,  Mrs.  Blessing 
moved  about  restlessly,  and  her  eyes  wandered  to  the  front 
window.  Suddenly  three  or  four  carriages  came  rattling 
together  up  the  street,  and  Joseph  heard  her  whisper  to  her 
husband  :  "  There  they  are  !  it  will  be  a  success  1 "  It  was 
not  long  before  the  little  room  was  uncomfortably  crowded, 
and  the  presentations  followed  so  rapidly  that  Joseph  soon 
became  bewildered.  Julia,  however,  knew  and  welcomed 
every  one  with  the  most  bewitching  grace,  being  rewarded 
with  kisses  by  the  gorgeous  young  ladies  and  compliments 
by  the  young  men  with  weak  mouths  and  retreating  chins. 

In  the  midst  of  the  confusion  Mr.  Blessing,  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand,  presented  "  Mr.  Collector  Twining  *'  and  "  Mr. 
Surveyor  Knob "  and  "  Mr.  Appraiser  Gerrish,"  all  of 
whom  greeted  Joseph  with  a  bland,  almost  affectionate,  cor- 
diality. The  door  of  the  dining-room  was  then  thrown 
open,  and  the  three  dignitaries  accompanied  the  bridal  pair 
to  the  table.  Two  servants  rapidly  whisked  the  champagne- 
bottles  from  a  cooling-tub  in  the  adjoining  closet,  and  Mr. 
Blessing  commenced  stirring  and  testing  a  huge  bowl  of 
punch.  Collector  Twining  made  a  neat  little  speech,  pro- 
posing the  health  of  bride  and  bridegroom,  with  a  pun  upon 
the  former's  name,  which  was  re/eived  with  as  much  delight 
as  if  it  had  never  been  heard  before.  Therefore  Mr.  Sur 
veyor  Knob  repeated  it  in  giving  the  health  of  the  bride'l 


120  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

parents.  The  enthusiasm  of  the  company  not  having  dimin 
ished,  Mr.  Appraiser  Gerrish  improved  the  pun  in  a  third 
form,  in  proposing  "  the  Ladies."  Then  Mr.  Blessing, 
although  his  feelings  overcame  him,  and  he  was  obliged  to 
use  a  handkerchief  smelling  equally  of  benzine  and  eau  de 
cologne,  responded,  introducing  the  collector's  and  survey- 
or's names  with  an  ingenuity  which  was  accepted  as  the 
inspiration  of  genius.  His  peroration  was  especially  admired. 

"  On  this  happy  occasion,"  he  said,  "  the  elements  of 
national  power  and  prosperity  are  represented.  My  son-in- 
law,  Mr.  Asten,  is  a  noble  specimen  of  the  agricultural 
population, — the  free  American  yeomanry ;  my  daughter,  if 
I  may  be  allowed  to  say  it  in  the  presence  of  so  many 
bright  eyes  and  blooming  cheeks,  is  a  representative  child 
of  the  city,  which  is  the  embodiment  of  the  nation's  action 
and  enterpiise.  The  union  of  the  two  is  the  movement  of 
our  life.  The  city  gives  to  the  country  as  the  ocean  gives 
the  cloud  to  the  mountain-springs :  the  country  gives  to  the 
city  as  the  streams  flow  back  to  the  ocean.  ["  Admirable  !  " 
Mr.  Collector  Twining  exclaimed.]  Then  we  have,- as  our 
highest  honor,  the  representatives  of  the  political  system 
under  which  city  and  country  flourish  alike.  The  wings  of 
our  eagle  must  be  extended  over  this  fortunate  house  to- 
day, for  here  are  the  strong  Claws  which  seize  and  guard  its 
treasures  !  n 

The  health  of  the  Claws  was  drunk  enthusiastically.  Mr. 
Blessing  was  congratulated  on  his  eloquence ;  the  young 
gentlemen  begged  the  privilege  of  touching  their  glasses  to 
his,  and  every  touch  required  that  the  contents  be  replen- 
ished; so  that  the  bottom  of  the  punch-bowl  was  nearly 
reached  before  the  guests  departed. 

When  Joseph  cam«  down  in  his  travelling-dress,  he  found 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  121 

the  drawing-room  empty  of  the  crowd ;  but  leaves,  withered 
flowers,  crumbs  of  cake,  and  crumpled  cards  scattered  over 
the  carpet,  indicated  what  had  taken  place.  In  the  dining- 
room  Mr.  Blessing,  with  his  cravat  loosened,  was  smoking  a 
cigar  at  the  open  window. 

"  Come,  son-in-law ! "  he  cried,  "  take  another  glass  of 
punch  before  you  start." 

Joseph  declined,  on  the  plea  that  he  was  not  accustomed 
to  the  beverage. 

"  Nothing  could  have  gone  off  better !  "  said  Mr.  Blessing. 
"The  collector  was  delighted:  by  the  by,  you're  to  go  to 
the  St.  Jerome,  when  you  get  to  New  York  this  evening. 
He  telegraphed  to  have  the  bridal-chamber  reserved  for 
you.  Tell  Julia :  she  won't  forget  it.  That  girl  has  a 
deuced  sharp  intellect :  if  you'll  be  guided  by  her  in  your 
operations — " 

"  Pa,  what  are  you  saying  about  me  ? "  Julia  asked, 
hastily  entering  the  room. 

"  Only  that  you  have  a  deuced  sharp  intellect,  and 
to-day  proves  it.  Asten  is  one  of  us  now,  and  I  may  tell 
him  of  his  luck." 

He  winked  and  laughed  stupidly,  and  Joseph  under- 
stood and  obeyed  his  wife's  appealing  glance.  He  went 
to  his  mother-in-law  in  the  drawing-room. 

Julia  lightly  and  swiftly  shut  the  door.  "Pa,"  she 
said,  in  a  strong,  angry  whisper ;  "  if  you  are  not  able 
to  talk  coherently,  you  must  keep  your  tongue  still.  What 
will  Joseph  think  of  me,  to  hear  you  ?  " 

"  What  he'll  think  anyhow,  in  a  little  while,"  he  dog- 
gedly replied.  "  Julia,  you  have  played  a  keen  game,  and 
played  it  well;  but  you  don't  know  much  of  men  yet. 
He'll  not  always  be  the  innocent,  white-nosed  lamb  h* 


122  JOSEPH   AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

is  now,  nibbling  the  posies  you  hold  out  to  him  Wait  till 
he  asks  for  stronger  feed,  and  see  whether  he'll  follow  you  !  " 

She  was  looking  on  the  floor,  pale  and  stern.  Suddenly 
one  of  her  gloves  burst,  across  the  back  of  the  hand. 
"Pa,"  she  then  said,  "it's  very  cruel  to  say  such  things 
to  me,  now  wher  I'm  leaving  you." 

"  So  it  is !  "  he  exclaimed,  tearfully  contrite ;  ft  I  am 
a  wretch  !  They  flattered  my  speech  so  much, — the  col- 
lector was  so  impressed  by  me, — and  said  so  many  pleasant 
things,  that — I  don't  feel  quite  steady.  Don't  forget 
the  St.  Jerome ;  the  bridal- chamber  is  ordered,  and  I'll 
Hee  that  Mumm  writes  a  good  account  for  the  'Evening 
Mercury.'  I  wish  you  could  be  here  to  remember  my 
speech  for  me.  O,  I  shall  miss  you  !  I  shall  miss  you  !  " 

With  f.hese  words,  and  his  arm  lovingly  about  hu 
daughter,  they  joined  the  family.  The  carriage  was  al- 
ready at  the  door,  and  the  coachman  was  busy  with 
the  travelling-trunks.  There  were  satchels,  and  little 
packages, — an  astonishing  number  it  seemed  to  Joseph, — 
to  be  gathered  together,  and  then  the  farewells  were  said. 

As  they  rolled  through  the  streets  towards  the  station, 
Julia  laid  her  head  upon  her  husband's  shoulder,  drew 
a  long,  deep  breath,  and  said,  "  Now  all  o\ir  obligations 
to  society  are  fulfilled,  and  we  can  rest  awhile.  For 
the  first  time  in  my  life  I  am  a  free  woman, — and  you 
have  liberated  me !  " 

He  answered  her  in  glad  and  tender  words ;  he  was 
equally  grateful  that  the  exciting  day  was  over.  But, 
as  they  sped  away  from  the  city  through  the  mellow 
October  landscapes,  Philip's  earnest,  dark  gray  eyes,  warm 
with  more  than  brotherly  love,  haunted  his  memory, 
&nd  he  knew  that  Philip's  faithful  thoughts  followed  him. 


JOSEPH    AUD    1118    FlilEND.  L23 


CHAPTER  XIL 

CLOUDS. 

THEKB  are  some  days  when  the  sun  comes  slowly  up, 
filling  the  vapory  air  with  difiused  light,  in  advance  of 
his  coming;  when  the  earth  grows  luminous  in  the  broad, 
breezeless  morning;  when  nearer  objects  shine  and  sparkle, 
and  the  distances  melt  into  dim  violet  and  gold ;  when 
the  vane  points  to  the  southwest,  and  the  blood  of  man 
feels  neither  heat  nor  cold,  but  only  the  freshness  of  that 
perfect  temperature  wherein  the  limits  of  the  body  are 
lost,  and  the  pulses  of  its  life  beat  in  all  the  life  of  the 
world.  But  ere  long  the  haze,  instead  of  thinning  into 
blue,  gradually  thickens  into  gray ;  the  vane  creeps 
southward,  swinging  to  southeast  in  brief,  rising  flaws 
of  the  air ;  the  horizon  darkens ;  the  enfranchised  life 
of  the  spirit  creeps  back  to  its  old  isolation,  shorn  of 
all  its  rash  delight,  and  already  foreboding  the  despond- 
ency which  comes  with  the  east  wind  and  the  chilly 
rains. 

Some  such  variation  of  the  atmospheric  influences  at- 
tended Joseph  Asten's  wedding-travel.  The  mellow,  ma- 
gical glory  of  his  new  life  diminished  day  by  day  ;  the 
blue  of  his  sky  became  colder  and  grayer.  Yet  he  could 
not  say  that  his  wife  had  changed :  she  was  always  ready 
with  her  smiles,  her  tender  phrases,  her  longings  foi 
quiet  and  rest,  and  simple,  natural  life,  away  from  the 
conventionalities  and  claims  of  Society.  But,  even  aa 


124  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

looking  into  the  pale,  tawny-brown  of  her  eyes,  lie  sa\» 
no  changing  depth  below  the  hard,  clear  surface,  so  it 
also  seemed  with  her  nature;  he  painfully  endeavored 
to  penetrate  beyond  expressions,  the  repetition  of  which 
it  was  hard  not  to  find  tiresome,  and  to  reach  some  spring 
of  character  or  feeling ;  yet  he  found  nothing.  It  was 
useless  to  remember  that  he  had  been  content  with  those 
expressions  before  marriage  had  given  them  his  own  eager 
interpretation,  independent  of  her  will  and  knowledge , 
that  his  duty  to  her  remained  the  same,  for  she  had  not 
deceived  him. 

On  the  other  hand,  she  was  as  tender  and  affectionate 
as  he  could  desire.  Indeed,  he  would  often  have  preferred 
a,  less  artless  manifestation  of  her  fondness;  but  she 
playfully  insisted  on  his  claiming  the  best  quarters  at 
every  stopping-place,  on  the  ground  of  their  bridal  char- 
acter, and  was  sometimes  a  little  petulant  when  she 
fancied  that  they  had  not  been  sufficiently  honored. 
Joseph  would  have  willingly  escaped  the  distinction, 
allowing  himself  to  be  confounded  with  the  prosaic  mul- 
titude, but  she  would  not  permit  him  to  try  the  experi- 
ment. 

"  The  newly  married  are  always  detected,"  she  would 
say,  "  and  they  are  only  laughed  at  when  they  try  to 
seem  like  old  couples.  Why  not  be  frank  and  honest, 
and  meet  half-way  the  sympathy  which  I  am  sure  every- 
body has  for  us  ?  " 

To  this  he  could  make  no  reply,  except  that  it  was  not 
agreeable  to  exact  a  special  attention 

"  But  it  is  our  right !  "  was  her  answer. 

In  every  railway-car  they  entered  she  contrived,  in  • 
•hort  time,  to  impress  the  nature  of  their  trip  upon  th« 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  125 

Dther  travellers;  yet  it  was  done  with  such  apparent 
unconsciousness,  such  innocent,  impulsive  manifestations 
of  her  happiness  in  him,  that  he  could  not,  in  his  heart, 
charge  her  with  having  intentionally  brought  upon  him 
the  discomfort  of  being  curiously  observed.  He  could 
have  accustomed  himself  to  endure  the  latter,  had  it  been 
inevitable ;  the  suspicion  that  he  owed  it  to  her  made 
it  an  increasing  annoyance.  Yet,  when  the  day's  journey 
was  over,  and  they  were  resting  together  in  their  own 
private  apartment,  she  would  bring  a  stool  to  his  feet, 
lay  her  head  on  his  knee,  and  say :  "  Now  we  can  talk 
as  we  please, — there  are  none  watching  and  listening." 

At  such  times  he  was  puzzled  to  guess  whether  somt 
relic  of  his  former  nervous  shyness  were  not  remaining 
and  had  made  him  over-sensitive  to  her  ways.  The  doubl 
gave  him  an  additional  power  of  self-control ;  he  resolvec 
to  be  more  slow  and  cautious  of  judgment,  and  observt 
men  and  women  more  carefully  than  he  had  been  wont  t( 
do.  Julia  had  no  suspicion  of  what  was  passing  in  hi? 
mind:  she  took  it  for  granted  that  his  nature  was  still 
as  shallow  and  transparent  as  when  she  first  came  ir 
contact  with  it. 

After  nearly  a  fortnight  this  flying  life  came  to  an  end. 
They  returned  to  the  city  for  a  day,  before  going  home 
to  the  farm.  The  Blessing  mansion  received  them  with 
a  hearty  welcome ;  yet,  in  spite  of  it,  a  depressing  at- 
mosphere seemed  to  fill  the  house.  Mrs.  Blessing  looked 
pinched  and  care-worn,  Clementina  discontented,  and 
Mr.  Blessing  as  melancholy  as  was  possible  to  so  bouy- 
*nt  a  politician. 

"What's  the  matter  ?  I  hope  ja  hasn't  lost  his  place,' 
Julia  remarked  in  an  undertone  to  her  mother. 


126  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"Lost  my  place!  "  Mr.  Blessing  exclaimed  aloud;  "  I'd 
like  to  see  how  the  collection  of  customs  would  go  on  with- 
out me.  But  a  man  may  keep  his  place,  and  yet  lose  his 
house  and  home." 

Clementina  vanished,  Mrs.  Blessing  followed,  witl  her 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  and  Julia  hastened  after  them, 
crying  :  "  Ma !  dear  ma  !  " 

"  It's  only  on  their  account,"  said  Mr.  Blessing,  pointing 
after  them  and  speaking  to  Joseph.  "  A  plucky  man  never 
desponds,  sir ;  but  women,  you'll  find,  are  upset  by  every 
reverse." 

"  May  I  ask  what  has  happened  ?  " 

"  A  delicate  regard  for  you,"  Mr.  Blessing  replied, "  would 
counsel  me  to  conceal  it,  but  my  duty  as  your  father-in-law 
leaves  me  no  alternative.  Our  human  feelings  prompt  us  to 
show  only  the  bright  side  of  life  to  those  whom  we  love ; 
principle,  however,  —  conscience,  commands  us  not  to  sup- 
press the  shadows.  I  am  but  one  out  of  the  many  millions 
of  victims  of  mistaken  judgment.  The  case  is  simply  this  ; 
I  will  omit  certain  legal  technicalities  touching  the  disposi- 
tion of  property,  which  may  not  be  familiar  to  you,  and  state 
the  facts  in  the  most  intelligible  form ;  securities  wliich  I 
placed  as  collaterals  for  the  loan  of  a  sum,  not  a  very  large 
amount,  have  been  very  unexpectedly  depreciated,  but  only 
temporarily  so,  as  all  the  market  knows.  If  I  am  forced  to 
sell  them  at  such  an  untoward  crisis,  I  lose  the  largest  part 
of  my  limited  means  ;  if  I  retain  them,  they  will  ultimately 
recover  their  full  value." 

"  Then  why  not  retain  them  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 

"  The  sum  advanced  upon  them  must  be  repaid,  and  it  so 
happens — the  market  being  very  tight — that  every  one  of 
my  friends  is  short.  Of  co\me,  where  th°ir  own  paper  ia 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FKIKM).  127 

on  the  street,  I  can't  ask  them  to  float  mine  for  three  months 
longer,  which  is  all  that  is  necessary.  A  good  indorsemeni 
is  the  extent  of  my  necessity ;  for  any  one  who  is  familial 
with  the  aspects  of  the  market  can  see  that  there  must  be  a 
great  rebound  before  three  months." 

u  If  it  were  not  a  very  large  amount,"  Joseph  began. 

"  Only  a  thousand  !  I  know  what  you  were  going  to  say 
it  is  perfectly  natural :  I  appreciate  it,  because,  if  our  posi- 
tions were  reversed,  I  should  have  done  the  same  thing. 
But,  although  it  is  a  mere  form,  a  temporary  fiction,  which 
has  the  force  of  reality,  and,  therefore,  so  far  as  you  are  con- 
cerned, I  should  feel  entirely  easy,  yet  it  might  subject  me 
to  very  dishonoring  suspicions  !  It  might  be  said  that  I 
had  availed  myself  of  your  entrance  into  my  family  to  be- 
guile you  into  pecuniary  entanglements  ;  the  amount  might 
be  exaggerated,  the  circumstance  misrepresented, — no,  no  ! 
rather  than  that,  let  me  make  the  sacrifice  like  a  man  !  I'm 
no  longer  young,  it  is  true  ;  bxit  the  feeling  that  I  stand  on 
principle  will  give  me  strength  to  work." 

"  On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Blessing,"  said  Joseph,  "  very  un- 
pleasant things  might  be  said  of  me,  if  I  should  permit  you  to 
suffer  so  serious  a  loss,  when  my  assistance  would  prevent  it." 

"  I  don't  deny  it.  You  have  made  a  two-horned  dilemma 
out  of  a  one-sided  embarrassment.  Would  that  I  had  kept 
the  secret  in  my  own  breast !  The  temptation  is  strong,  I 
confess,  for  the  mere  use  of  your  name  for  a  few  months  is 
all  I  should  require.  Either  the  securities  will  rise  to  their 
legitimate  value,  or  some  of  the  capitalists  with  whom  I 
have  dealings  will  be  in  a  position  to  accommodate  me.  I 
have  frequently  tided  ove»r  similar  snags  and  sand-bars  in 
the  financial  current;  they  are  familiar  even  to  the  most 
skilful  operators, — navigators,  I  might  say,  to  carry  out  the 


128  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

figure, — and  this  is  an  instance  where  an  additional  inch  of 
water  will  lift  me  from  wreck  to  flood-tide.  The  question 
is,  should  I  allow  what  I  feel  to  be  a  just  principle,  a  natural 
suggestion  of  delicacy,  to  intervene  between  my  necessity  and 
your  generous  profler  of  assistance  ?  " 

"  Your  family — "  Joseph  began. 

"  I  know  !  I  know  ! "  Mr.  Blessing  cried,  leaning  his 
head  upon  his  hand.  "  There  is  my  vulnerable  point, — my 
heel  of  Achilles  !  There  would  be  no  alternative, — bette^ 
sell  this  house  than  have  my  paper  dishonored !  Then,  too, 
I  feel  that  this  is  a  turning-point  in  my  fortunes :  if  I  can 
squeeze  through  this  narrow  pass,  I  shall  find  a  smooth  road 
beyond.  It  is  not  merely  the  sum  which  is  at  stake,  but 
the  future  possibilities  into  which  it  expands.  Shoxild  J 
crush  the  seed  while  it  is  germinating  ?  Should  I  tear  up 
the  young  tn  e,  with  an  opening  fruit-bud  on  every  twig  ? 
You  see  the  considerations  that  sway  me :  unless  you  with- 
draw your  most  generous  proffer,  what  can  I  do  but  yield 
and  accept  it  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  withdrawing  it,"  Joseph  answered, 
taking  his  words  literally  ;  "  I  made  the  offer  freely  and 
willingly.  If  my  indorsement  is  all  that  is  necessary  now,  I 
can  give  it  at  once." 

Mr.  Blessing  grasped  him  by  the  hand,  winked  hard  three 
or  four  times,  and  turned  away  his  head  without  speaking. 
Then  he  drew  a  large  leather  pocket-book  from  his  breast, 
opened  it,  and  produced  a  printed  promissory  note. 

"  We  will  make  it  payable  at  your  coxinty  bank,"  said  he, 
"  because  your  name  is  known  thei'e,  and  upon  acceptance — 
which  can  be  procured  in  two  days — the  money  will  be 
drawn  here.  'Perhaps  we  had  better  sav  four  months,  in 
order  to  cover  all  contingencies." 


JOSEPH    AND   Ills   FKIEND.  129 

He  went  to  a  small  writing-desk,  at  the  farther  end  of 
kh^  room,  and  filled  the  blanks  in  the  note,  which  Joseph 
then  endorsed.  When  it  was  safely  lodged  in  his  breast- 
pocket, he  said  :  "  We  will  keep  this  entirely  to  ourselves 
My  wife,  let  me  whisper  to  you,  is  very  proud  and  sensitiT  e: 
although  the  De  1'Hotels  (Doolittles  now)  were  never  quite 
the  equals  of  the  De  Belsains  ;  but  women  see  matters  in  a 
different  light.  They  can't  understand  the  accommodation 
of  a  name,  but  iancy  that  it  implies  a  kind  of  humiliation,  as 
if  one  were  soliciting  charity." 

He  laughed  and  rubbed  his  hands.  "  I  shall  soon  be  in  a 
position,"  he  said,  "  to  render  you  a  favor  in  returm.  My 
long  experience,  and,  I  may  add,  my  intimate  knowledge  of 
the  financial  field,  enables  me  to  foresee  many  splendid  op- 
portunities. There  are,  just  now,  some  movements  which 
are  not  yet  perceptible  on  the  surface.  Mark  my  words  !  we 
shall  shortly  have  a  new  excitement,  and  a  cool,  well-sea- 
soned head  is  a  fortune  at  such  times." 

"  In  the  country,"  Joseph  replied,  "  we  only  leam 
enough  to  pay  off  our  debts  and  invest  our  earnings.  We 
are  in  the  habit  of  moving  slowly  and  cautiously.  Perhaps 
we  miss  opportunities ;  but  if  we  don't  see  them,  we  are 
just  as  contented  as  if  they  had  not  been.  I  have  enough 
for  comfort,  and  try  to  be  satisfied." 

"  Inherited  ideas  !  They  belong  to  the  community  in 
which  you  live.  Are  you  satisfied  with  your  neighbors'  ways 
of  living  and  thinking  ?  I  do  not  mean  to  disparage  them, 
but  have  you  no  desire  to  rise  above  their  level  ?  Money, — 
as  I  once  said  at  a  dinner  given  to  a  distinguished  railroad 
man, — money  is  the  engine  which  draws  individuals  up  the 
steepest  grades  of  society;  it  is  the  fabricating  oil  which 
makes  the  truck  of  life  run  easy ;  it  is  the  safety-break 


130  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

which  renders  collision  and  wreck  impossible  !  I  have  long 
been  accustomed  to  consider  it  in  the  light  of  power,  not  of 
property,  and  I  classify  men  according  as  they  take  one  or 
the  other  view.  The  latter  are  misers ;  but  the  forni;,r,  air, 
are  philosophers ! " 

Joseph  scarcely  knew  how  to  answer  this  burst  of  eloquence. 
But  there  was  no  necessity  for  it ;  the  ladies  entered  the 
room  at  that  moment,  each  one,  in  her  own  way,  swiftly 
scrutinizing  the  two  gentlemen.  Mrs.  Blessing's  face  lost  its 
woe-worn  expression,  while  a  gleam  of  malicious  satisfaction 
passed  over  Clementina's. 

The  next  day,  on  their  journey  to  the  country,  Julia  sud- 
denly said,  "  I  am  sure,  Joseph,  that  pa  made  use  of  your 
generosity  ;  pray  don't  deny  it !  " 

There  was  the  faintest  trace  of  hardness  in  her  voice. 
which  he  interpreted  as  indicating  dissatisfaction  with  his 
failure  to  confide  the  matter  to  her. 

"I  have  no  intention  of  denying  anything,  Julia,"  ho 
answered.  "I  was  not  called  upon  to  exercise  generosity; 
it  was  simply  what  your  father  would  term  an  c  accommoda- 
tion.' " 

"  I  understand.     How  much  ?  w 

"  An  endorsement  of  his  note  for  a  thousand  dollars,  which 
is  little,  when  it  will  prevent  him  from  losing  valuable 
securities." 

Julia  was  silent  for  'at  least  ten  minutes ;  then,  turning 
towards  him  with  a  sternness  which  she  vainly  endeavored  to 
conceal  under  a  "  wreathed  smile,"  she  said :  "  In  future, 
Joseph,  I  hope  you  will  always  consult  me  in  any  pecuniary 
venture.  I  may  not  know  much  about  such  matters,  but  it 
is  my  duty  to  learn.  I  have  been  obliged  to  hear  a  great 
deal  of  financial  talk  from  pa  and  his  friends,  and  could  not 


JO8KPH   AND   HIS  FBIEND.  131 

help  guessing  some  things  which  I  think  I  can  apply  foi 
your  benefit.  We  are  to  have  no  secrets  from  each  other, 
you  know." 

His  own  words !  After  all,  what  she  said  was  jus? 
and  right,  and  he  could  not  explain  to  himself  why  he 
should  feel  annoyed.  Perhaps  he  missed  a  frank  expres- 
sion of  delight  in  the  assistance  he  had  so  promptly 
given ;  but  why  should  he  suspect  that  it  was  unwelcome 
to  her  ?  He  tried  to  banish  the  feeling,  to  hide  it  under 
self-reproach  and  shame,  but  it  clung  to  him  most  uncom- 
fortably. 

Nevertheless,  he  forgot  everything  in  the  pleasure  of  the 
homeward  drive  from  the  station.  The  sadness  of  late 
autumn  lay  upon  the  fields,  but  spring  already  said,  "  I  am 
coming  !  "  in  the  young  wheat ;  the  houses  looked  warm  and 
cosey  behind  their  sheltering  fir-trees  ;  cattle  still  grazed  on 
the  meadows,  and  the  corn  was  not  yet  deserted  by  the 
huskers.  The  sun  gave  a  bright  edge  to  the  sombre  colors 
of  tne  landscape,  and  to  Joseph's  eyes  it  was  beautiful  as 
aever  before.  Julia  leaned  back  in  the  carriage,  and  com- 
plained of  the  cold  wind. 

"  There !  "  cried  Joseph,  as  a  view  of  the  valley  opened 
below  them,  with  the  stream  flashing  like  steel  between  the 
leafless  sycamores, — "  there  is  home-land  !  Do  you  know 
where  to  look  for  our  house  ?  " 

Julia  made  an  effort,  leaned  forward,  smiled,  and  pointed 
silently  across  the  shoulder  of  a  hill  to  the  eastward.  "  You 
surely  didn't  suppose  I  could  forget,"  she  murmured. 

Eachel  Miller  awaited  them  at  the  gate,  and  Julia  had  no 
sooner  alighted  than  she  flung  herself  into  her  arms.  "  Dear 
Aunt  Rachel !  "  she  cried  :  "  you  must  now  take  my  mother's 
place  ;  1  have  so  much  to  learn  from  you !  It  is  doubly  3 


132  JOSEPH   AND   mS   FRIEND. 

home  since  you  are  here.     I  feel  that  we  shall  all  be  happj 
together ! " 

Then  there  were  kisses,  of  which  Joseph  received  his 
share,  and  the  first  evening  lapsed  away  in  perfect  har- 
mony. Everything  was  delightful :  the  room,  the  furniture, 
the  meal,  even  the  roar  of  the  wind  in  the  dusky  trees. 
While  Julia  lay  in  the  cushioned  rocking-chair,  Rachel 
gave  her  nephew  an  account  of  all  that  had  been  done  on  the 
farm  ;  but  Joseph  only  answered  her  from  the  surface  of  his 
mind.  Under  the  current  of  his  talk  ran  a  graver  thought, 
which  said :  "  You  wanted  independence  and  a  chance  of 
growth  for  your  life ;  you  fancied  they  would  come  in  this 
form.  Lo,  now  !  here  are  the  conditions  which  you  desired 
to  establish  ;  from  this  hour  begins  the  new  life  of  which 
you  dreamed.  Whether  you  have  been  wise  or  rash,  you 
can  change  nothing.  You  are  limited,  as  before,  though 
within  a  different  circle.  You  may  pace  it  to  its  fullest  ex- 
tent, but  all  the  lessons  you  have  yet  learned  require  yon  to 
be  satisfied  within  it." 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FKIBND.  133 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

PRESENTIMENTS. 

THE  autumn  lapsed  into  winter,  and  the  household  on  Ino 
Asten  farm  began  to  share  the  isolation  of  the  season.  There 
had  been  friendly  visits  from  all  the  nearest  neighbors  and 
friends,  followed  by  return  visits,  and  invitations  which  Julia 
willingly  accepted.  She  was  very  amiable,  and  took  pains  to 
confirm  the  favorable  impression  which  she  knew  she  had  made 
in  the  summer.  Everybody  remarked  how  she  had  improved 
in  appearance,  how  round  and  soft  her  neck  and  shoulders, 
how  bright  and  fresh  her  complexion.  She  thanked  them, 
with  many  grateful  expressions  to  which  they  were  not 
accustomed,  for  their  friendly  reception,  which  she  looked 
upon  as  an  adoption  into  their  society  ;  but  at  home,  after- 
wards, she  indulged  in  criticisms  of  their  manners  and  habits 
which  were  not  always  friendly.  Although  these  were  given 
in  a  light,  playful  tone,  and  it  was  sometimes  impossible  not 
to  be  amused,  Rachel  Miller  always  felt  uncomfortable  when 
she  heard  them. 

Then  came  quiet,  lonely  days,  and  Julia,  weary  of  her  idle 
life,  undertook  to  master  the  details  of  the  housekeeping. 
She  went  from  garret  to  cellar,  inspecting  every  article  in 
closet  and  pantry,  wondering  much,  censuring  occasionally, 
and  only  praising  a  little  when  she  found  that  Rachel  waa 
growing  tired  and  irritable.  Although  she  made  no  material 
changes,  it  was  soon  evident  that  she  had  very  stubborn 
views  of  her  own  upon  many  p  )ints,  and  possessed  a  marked 


134  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

tendency  for  what  the  country  people  call  "nearness." 
Little  by  little  she  diminished  the  bountiful,  free-handed 
manner  of  provision  which  had  been  the  habit  of  the  house. 
One  could  not  say  that  anything  needful  was  lacking,  and 
Rachel  would  hardly  have  been  dissatisfied,  had  she  not  felt 
that  the  innovation  was  an  indirect  blame. 

In  some  directions  Julia  seemed  the  reverse  of  "  near," 
persuading  Joseph  into  expenditures  which  the  people  con- 
sidered very  extravagant.  When  the  snow  came,  his  new 
and  elegant  sleigh,  with  the  wolf-skin  robe,  the  silver 
mounted  harness,  and  the  silver-sounding  bells,  was  the  envy 
of  all  the  young  men,  and  an  abomination  to  the  old.  It 
was  a  splendor  which  he  could  easily  afford,  and  he  did  not 
grudge  her  the  pleasure ;  yet  it  seemed  to  change  his 
relation  to  the  neighbors,  and  some  of  them  were  very 
free  in  hinting  that  they  felt  it  so.  It  would  be  difficult 
to  explain  why  they  should  resent  this  or  any  other  slight 
departure  from  their  fashions,  but  such  had  always  been 
their  custom. 

In  a  few  days  the  snow  vanished  and  a  tiresome  season  of 
rain  and  thaw  succeeded.  The  south-eastern  winds,  blowing 
from  the  Atlantic  across  the  intervening  lowlands,  rolled 
interminable  gray  masses  of  fog  over  the  hills  and  blurred 
the  scenery  of  the  valley ;  dripping  trees,  soaked  meadows, 
and  sodden  leaves  were  the  only  objects  that  detached  them- 
selves from  the  general  void,  and  became  in  turn  visible  t6 
those  who  travelled  the  deep,  quaking  roads.  The  social 
intercourse  of  the  neighborhood  ceased  perforce,  though  the 
need  of  it  were  never  so  great :  what  little  of  the  main  high- 
way down  the  valley  was  visible  from  the  windows  appeared 
to  be  deserted, 

Julia,   having    exhausted    the,  resources   of   the   house, 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  135 

insisted  on  acquainting  herself  with  the  barn  and  e  rerything 
thereto  belonging.  She  laughingly  asserted  that  her  educa- 
tion as  a  fanner's  wife  was  still  very  incomplete  ;  she  must 
know  the  amount  of  the  crops,  the  price  of  grain,  the  value 
of  the  stock,  the  manner  of  work,  and  whatever  else  was 
necessary  to  her  position.  Although  she  made  many  pretty 
blunders,  it  was  evident  that  her  apprehension  was  unu- 
sually quick,  and  that  whatever  she  acquired  was  fixed  in 
her  mind  as  if  for  some  possible  future  use.  She  never 
wearied  of  the  most  trivial  details,  while  Joseph,  on  the 
other  hand,  would  often  have  willingly  shortened  his  les- 
sons. His  mind  was  singularly  disturbed  between  the 
desire  to  be  gratified  by  her  curiosity,  and  the  fact  that  its 
eager  and  persistent  character  made  him  uncomfortable. 

When  an  innocent,  confiding  nature  begins  to  suspect 
that  its  confidence  has  been  misplaced,  the  first  result  is  a 
preternatural  stubbornness  to  admit  the  truth.  The  clearest 
impressions  are  resisted,  or  half-consciously  misinterpreted, 
with  the  last  force  of  an  illusion  which  already  foresees  its 
own  overthrow.  Joseph  eagerly  clung  to  every  look  and 
word  and  action  which  confirmed  his  sliding  faith  in  his 
wife's  sweet  and  simple  character,  and  repelled — though  a 
deeper  instinct  told  him  that  a  day  would  come  when  it 
must  be  admitted — the  evidence  of  her  coldness  and  selfish- 
ness. Yet,  even  while  almost  fiercely  asserting  to  his  own 
heart  that  he  had  every  reason  to  be  happy,  he  was  con- 
sumed with  a  secret  fever  of  unrest,  doubt,  and  dread. 

The  horns  of  the  growing  moon  were  still  turned  down- 
wards, and  cold,  dreary  rains  were  poured  upon  the  land. 
Julia's  patience,  in  such  straits,  was  wonderful,  if  the  truth 
had  been  known,  but  she  saw  that  some  change  wai  necessary 
for  both  of  them  She  therefore  proposed,  not  what  she 


136  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

most  desired,  but  what  her  circumstances  prescribed, — a 
visit  from  her  sister  Clementina.  Joseph  found  the  request 
natural  enough  :  it  was  an  infliction,  but  one  which  he  had 
anticipated ;  and  after  the  time  had  been  arranged  by  letter, 
he  drove  to  the  station  to  meet  the  westward  train  from 
the  city. 

Clementina  stepped  upon  the  platform,  so  cloaked  and 
hooded  that  he  only  recognized  her  by  the  deliberate  grace 
of  her  movements.  She  extended  her  hand,  giving  his  a 
cordial  pressure,  which  was  explained  by  the  brass  baggage- 
checks  thus  transferred  to  his  charge. 

"  I  will  wait  in  the  ladies'  room,"  was  all  she  said. 

At  the  same  moment  Joseph's  arm  was  grasped. 

"  What  a  lucky  chance ! "  exclaimed  Philip :  then,  sud- 
denly pausing  in  his  greeting,  he  lifted  his  hat  and  bowed  to 
Clementina,  who  nodded  slightly  as  she  passed  into  the 
room, 

"  Let  me  look  at  you !  "  Philip  resumed,  laying  his  hinds 
on  Joseph's  shoulders.  Their  eyes  met  and  lingered^  and 
Joseph  felt  the  blood  rise  to  his  face  as  Philip's  gaze  sank 
more  deeply  into  his  heart  and  seemed  to  fathom  its  hidden 
trouble ;  but  presently  Philip  smiled  and  said :  "  I  scarcely 
knew,  until  this  moment,  that  I  had  missed  you  so  much, 
Joseph ! " 

"  Have  you  come  to  stay  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 

"  I  think  so.  The  branch  railway  down  the  valley,  which 
you  know  was  projected,  is  to  be  built  immediately  ;  but 
there  are  other  reasons  why  the  furnaces  should  be  in  blast. 
If  it  is  possible,  the  work — and  my  settlement  with  it — will 
begin  without  any  further  delay.  Is  she  your  first  family 
visit  ?  " 

He  pointed  towards  the  station* 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND,  137 

"  She  will  be  with  us  a  fortnight ;  but  you  will  come, 
1'hilip?" 

"  To  be  sure !  "  Philip  exclaimed.  "  I  only  saw  her  face 
indistinctly  through  the  veil,  but  her  nod  said  to  me,  '  A 
nearer  approach  is  not  objectionable.'  Certainly,  Miss 
Blessing ;  but  with  all  the  conventional  forms,  if  you  please  !  " 

There  was  something  of  scorn  and  bitterness  in  the  laugh 
which  accompanied  these  words,  and  Joseph  looked  at  him 
with  a  puzzled  air. 

"  You  may  as  well  know  now,"  Philip  whispered,  "  that 
when  I  was  a  spoony  youth  of  twenty,  I  very  nearly  imagined 
myself  in  love  with  Miss  Clementina  Blessing,  and  she  en- 
couraged my  greenness  until  it  spread  as  fast  as  a  bamboo  or 
a  gourd-vine.  Of  course,  I've  long  since  congratulated  my- 
self that  she  cut  me  up,  root  and  branch,  when  our  family 
fortune  was  lost.  The  awkwardness  of  our  intercourse  is  all 
on  her  side.  Can  she  still  have  faith  in  her  charms  and  my 
youth,  I  wonder?  Ye  gods!  that  would  be  a  lovely  con- 
clusion of  the  comedy  !  " 

Joseph  could  only  join  in  the  laugh  as  they  parted 
There  was  no  time  to  reflect  upon  what  had  been  said. 
Clementina,  nevertheless,  assumed  a  new  interest  in  hia 
eyes ;  and  as  he  drove  her  towards  the  farm,  he  could  not 
avoid  connecting  her  with  Philip  in  his  thoughts.  She, 
too,  was  evidently  preoccupied  with  the  meeting,  for  Philip's 
name  soon  floated  to  the  surface  of  their  conversation. 

"  I  expect  a  visit  from  him  soon,"  said  Joseph.  As  she 
was  silent,  he  ventured  to  add :  "  You  have  no  objections  to 
meeting  with  him,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Held  is  still  a  gentleman,  I  believe,"  Clementina 
reined,  and  then  changed  the  subject  of  conversation. 

Julia  flew  at  her  sister  with  ouvii  arms,  and  showered  on 


138  JOSETil   AJSTD   1IIS   FKIEND. 

her  a  profusion  of  kisses,  all  of  which  were  received  with 
perfect  serenity,  Clementina  merely  saying,  as  soon  as  she 
could  get  breath :  "  Dear  me,  Julia,  I  scarcely  recognize 
you  !  You  are  already  so  countrified  !  " 

Rachel  Miller,  although  a  woman,  and  notwithstanding 
her  recent  experience,  found  herself  greatly  bewildered  by 
this  new  apparition.  Clementina's  slow,  deliberate  move- 
ments and  her  even-toned,  musical  utterance  impressed  her 
with  a  certain  respect ;  yet  the  qualities  of  character  they 
suggested  never  manifested  themselves.  On  the  contrary, 
the  same  words,  in  any  other  mouth,  would  have  often  ex- 
pressed malice  or  heartlessness.  Sometimes  she  heard  her 
own  homely  phrases  repeated,  as  if  by  the  most  unconscious 
purposeless  imitation,  and  had  Julia  either  smiled  or  appeared 
annoyed  her  suspicions  might  have  been  excited ;  as  it  was, 
she  was  constantly  and  sorely  puzzled. 

Once  only,  and  for  a  moment,  the  two  masks  were  slightly 
lifted.  At  dinner,  Clementina,  who  had  turned  the  conver- 
sation upon  the  subject  of  birthdays,  suddenly  said  to  Jo- 
seph:  "By  the  way,  Mr.  Asten,  has  Julia  told  you  her 
age?" 

Julia  gave  a  little  start,  but  presently  looked  up,  with  an 
expression  meant  to  be  artless. 

"  I  knew  it  before  we  were  married,"  Joseph  quietly 
answered. 

Clementina  bit  her  lip.  Julia,  concealing  her  surprise, 
flashed  a  triumphant  glance  at  her  sister,  then  a  tender  one 
at  Joseph,  and  said:  "We  will  both  let  the  old  birthdays 
go;  we  will  only  have  one  and  the  same  anniversary  from 
this  time  on  !  " 

Joseph  felt,  through  some  natural  magnetism  of  his  nature 
rather  than  from  anv  perceptible  evidence,  that  Clementina 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  139 

was  sharply  and  curiously  watching  the  relation  between 
himself  and  his  wife.  He  had  no  fear  of  her  detecting  mis- 
givings which  were  not  yet  acknowledged  to  himself,  but 
was  instinctively  on  his  guard  in  her  presence. 

It  was  not  many  days  before  Philip  called.  Julia  received 
aim  cordially,  as  the  friend  of  her  husband,  while  Clemen- 
tina bowed  with  an  impassive  face,  without  rising  from  her 
seat.  Philip,  however,  crossed  the  room  and  gave  her  his 
hand,  saying  cheerily :  "  We  used  to  be  old  friends,  Miss 
Blessing.  You  have  not  forgotten  me  ?  " 

"  We  cannot  forget  when  we  have  been  asked  to  do  so," 
she  warbled. 

Philip  took  a  chair.  "  Eight  years  !  "  he  said  :  "  I  am  the 
only  one  who  has  changed  in  that  time." 

Julia  looked  at  her  sister,  but  the  latter  was  apparently 
absorbed  in  comparing  some  zephyr  tints. 

"  The  whirligig  of  time  !  "  he  exclaimed  :  "  who  can  fore- 
see anything?  Then  I  was  an  ignorant,  petted  young 
aristocrat, —  an  expectant  heir;  now  behold  me,  working 
among  miners  and  puddlers  and  forgemen !  It's  a  rough 
but  wholesome  change.  Would  you  believe  it,  Mrs.  Asten, 
I've  forgotten  the  mazurka !  " 

"I  wish  to  forget  it,"  Julia  replied:  "the  spring-house  is 
as  important  to  me  as  the  furnace  to  you." 

"  Have  you  seen  the  Hopetons  lately  ?  "  Clementina  asked. 

Joseph  saw  a  shade  pass  over  Philip's  face,  and  he  seemed 
to  hesitate  a  moment  before  answering :  "  I  hear  they  will 
be  neighbors  of  mine  next  summer.  Mr.  Hopeton  is  inter- 
ested in  the  new  branch  down  the  valley,  and  has  purchased 
the  old  Calvert  property  for  a  country  residence." 

"  Indeed  ?     Then  you  will  often  see  them." 

"  I  hope  so  :  they  are  very  agreeable  people.     But  I  shall 


140  JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FRIEND. 

also  have  my  own  little  household  :  my  sister  -will  probably 
join  me." 

"  Not  Madeline !  "  exclaimed  Julia. 

"  Madeline,"  Philip  answered.  "  It  has  long  been 
her  wish,  as  well  as  mine.  You  know  the  little  cot- 
tage on  the  knoll,  at  Coventry,  Joseph !  I  have  taken  it 
for  a  year." 

"  There  will  be  quite  a  city  society,"  murmured  Clemen- 
tina, in  her  sweetest  tones.  "  You  will  need  no  commisera- 
tion, Julia.  Unless,  indeed,  the  country  people  succeed  in 
changing  you  all  into  their  own  likeness.  Mrs.  Hopeton 
will  certainly  create  a  sensation.  I  am  told  that  she  is  very 
extravagant,  Mr.  Held  ?  " 

"I  have  never  seen  her  husband's  bank  account,"  said 
Philip,  dryly. 

He  rose  presently,  and  Joseph  accompanied  him  to  the 
lane.  Philip,  with  the  bridle-rein  over  his  arm,  delayed  to 
mount  his  horse,  while  the  mechanical  commonplaces  of 
speech,  which,  somehow,  always  absurdly  come  to  the  lips 
when  graver  interests  have  possession  of  the  heart,  were 
exchanged  by  the  two.  Joseph  felt,  rather  than  saw,  that 
Philip  was  troubled.  Presently  the  latter  said :  "  Some- 
thing is  coming  over  both  of  us, — not  between  us.  I  thought 
I  should  tell  you  a  little  more,  but  perhaps  it  is  too  soon. 
If  I  guess  rightly,  neither  of  us  is  ready.  Only  this,  Joseph, 
let  iis  each  think  of  the  other  as  a  help  and  a  s  ipport !  " 

"  I  do,  Philip  !  "  Joseph  answered.  "  I  see  there  is  some 
influence  at  work  which  I  do  not  understand,  but  I  am 
not  impatient  to  know  what  it  is.  As  for  myself,  I  seem 
to  know  nothing  at  all ;  but  you  can  judge,  —you  see  all 
there  is." 

Even  as  he  pronounced  these  words  Joseph  felt  that  they 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FEIEND. 

were  not  strictly  sincere,  and  almost  expected  to  find  an  ex- 
pression of  reproof  in  Philip's  eyes.  But  no  :  they  softened 
until  he  only  saw  a  pitying  tenderness.  Then  he  knew  that 
the  doubts  which  he  had  resisted  with  all  the  force  of  hia 
nature  were  clearly  revealed  to  Philip's  mind. 

They  shook  hands,  and  parted  in  silence ;  and  Joseph,  as 
he  looked  up  to  the  gray  blank  of  heaven,  asked  himself: 
"  Is  this  all  ?  Has  my  life  already  taken  the  permanent 
imprint  of  its  fv.ture  ?  " 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE    AMARANTH. 

CLEMENTINA  returned  to  the  city  without  having  made 
iny  very  satisfactory  discovery.  Her  parting  was  there- 
fore conventionally  tender:  she  even  thanked  Joseph  for 
his  hospitality,  and  endeavored  to  throw  a  little  natural 
emphasis  into  her  words  as  she  expressed  the  hope  of 
being  allowed  to  renew  her  visit  in  the  summer. 

During  her  stay  it  seemed  to  Joseph  that  the  early  har- 
mony of  his  household  had  been  restored.  Julia's  manner 
had  been  so  gentle  and  amiable,  that,  on  looking  back,  he 
was  inclined  to  believe  that  the  loneliness  of  her  new  life  was 
alone  responsible  for  any  change.  But  after  Clementina's 
departure  his  doubts  were  reawakened  in  a  more  threatening 
form.  He  could  not  guess,  as  yet,  the  terrible  chafing  of  a 
smiling  mask  ;  of  a  restraint  which  must  not  only  conceaJ 
itself,  but  counterfeit  its  opposite ;  of  the  assumption  by  a 
narrow,  cold,  and  selfish  nature  of  virtues  which  it  secretly 
despises.  He  could  not  have  foreseen  that  the  gentleness, 
which  had  nearly  revived  his  faith  in  her,  would  so  sud- 
denly disappear.  But  it  was  gone,  like  a  glimpse  of  the 
sun  through  the  winter  fog.  The  hard,  watchful  expression 
came  back  to  Julia's  face ;  the  lowered  eyelids  no  longer 
gave  a  fictitious  depth  to  her  shallow,  tawny  pupils ;  the 
soft  roundness  of  her  voice  took  on  a  frequent  harshness, 
and  the  desire  of  asserting  her  own  will  in  all  thinga 
betrayed  itself  through  her  affected  habits  of  yielding  and 
seeking  counsel. 


JOSEPH   AND    HIS   FRIEND.  143 

She  continued  her  plan  of  making  herself  acquainted  with 
all  the  details  of  the  farm  business.  When  the  roads  began 

O 

to  improve,  in  the  early  spring,  she  insisted  in  driving  to  th* 
village  alone,  and  Joseph  soon  found  that  she  made  good  use 
of  these  journeys  in  extending  her  knowledge  of  the  social 
and  pecuniary  standing  of  all  the  neighboring  families.  She 
talked  with  farmers,  mechanics,  and  drovers;  became  famil- 
iar with  the  fluctuations  in  the  prices  of  grain  and  cattle  j 
learned  to  a  penny  the  wages  paid  for  every  form  of  service ; 
and  thus  felt,  from  week  to  week,  the  ground  growing  more 
secure  under  her  feet. 

Joseph  was  not  surprised  to  see  that  his  aunt's  participa 
tion  in  the  direction  of  the  household  gradually  diminished. 
Indeed,  he  scarcely  noticed  the  circumstance  at  all,  but  he 
was  at  last  forced  to  remark  her  increasing  silence  and  the 
trouble  of  her  face.  To  all  appearance  the  domestic  har- 
mony was  perfect,  and  if  Rachel  Miller  felt  some  natural 
regret  at  being  obliged  to  divide  her  sway,  it  was  a  matter, 
he  thought,  wherein  he  had  best  not  interfere.  One  day, 
however,  she  surprised  him  by  the  request : — 

"Joseph,  can  you  take  or  send  me  to  Magnolia  to-mor- 
row?" 

"Certainly,  Aunt!"  he  replied.  "I  suppose  you  want 
to  visit  Cousin  Phebe;  you  have  not  seen  her  since  last 
summer." 

"It  was  that, — and  something  more."  She  paused  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  added,  more  firmly :  "  She  has  always  wished 
that  I  should  make  niy  home  with  her,  but  I  couldn't  think 
of  any  change  so  long  as  I  was  needed  here.  It  seems  to  me 
that  I  am  not  really  needed  now." 

**  Why,  Aunt  Rachel ! "  Joseph  exclaimed,  "  I  meant  this 
to  be  your  home  always,  as  much  as  mine  !  Of  course  you 


144  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FKIEND. 

are  needed, — not  to  do  all  that  you  have  done  heretofore, 
but  as  a  part  of  the  family.  It  is  your  right." 

"  I  understand  all  that,  Joseph.  But  I've  heard  it  said 
that  a  young  wife  should  learn  to  see  to  everything  herself, 
and  Julia,  I'm  sure,  doesn't  need  either  my  help  or  my  advice." 

Joseph's  face  became  very  grave.  "  Has  she — has  she — ?  " 
he  stammered. 

"  No,"  said  Rachel,  "  she  has  not  said  it — in  words.  Dif- 
ferent persons  have  different  ways.  She  is  quick,  O  very 
quick ! — and  capable.  You  know  I  could  never  sit  idly  by, 
and  look  on ;  and  it's  hard  to  be  directed.  I  seem  to  belong 
to  the  place  and  everything  connected  with  it ;  yet  there's 
times  when  what  a  body  ought  to  do  is  plain." 

In  endeavoring  to  steer  a  middle  course  between  her  con- 
science and  her  tender  regard  for  her  nephew's  feelings  Rachel 
only  confused  and  troubled  him.  Her  words  conveyed  some- 
thing of  the  truth  which  she  sought  to  hide  under  them. 
She  was  both  angered  and  humiliated ;  the  resistance  with 
which  she  had  attempted  to  meet  Julia's  domestic  innova- 
tions was  no  match  for  the  latter's  tactics;  it  had  gone  down 
like  a  barrier  of  reeds  and  been  contemptuously  trampled 
under  foot.  She  saw  herself  limited,  opposed,  and  finally 
set  aside  by  a  cheerful  dexterity  of  management  which 
evaded  her  grasp  whenever  she  tried  to  resent  it.  Definite 
acts,  whereon  to  base  her  indignation,  seemed  to  slip  from 
her  memory,  but  the  atmosphere  of  the  house  became  fatal 
to  her.  She  felt  this  while  she  spoke,  and  felt  also  that 
Joseph  must  be  spared. 

"Aunt  Rachel,"  said  he,  "I  know  that  Julia  is  very  anx- 
ious to  learn  everything  which  she  thinks  belongs  to  her 
place, — perhaps  a  little  more  than  is  really  necessary.  She's 
an  enthusiastic  nature,  you  know.  Maybe  you  are  not  fully 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FBEEND.  146 

acquainted  yet ;  maybe  you  have  misunderstood  her  in  some 
things  :  I  would  like  to  think  so." 

'*  It  is  true  that  we  are  different,  Joseph, — very  different. 
I  don't  say,  therefore,  that  I'm  always  right.  It's  likely, 
indeed,  that  any  young  wife  and  any  old  housekeeper  like 
myself  would  have  their  various  notions.  But  where  there 
can  be  only  one  head,  it's  the  wife's  place  to  be  that  head. 
Julia  has  not  asked  it  of  me,  but  she  has  the  right.  I  can't 
say,  also,  that  I  don't  need  a  little  rest  and  change,  and  there 
seems  to  be  some  call  on  me  to  oblige  Phebe.  Look  at  the 
matter  in  the  true  light,"  she  continued,  seeing  that  Joseph 
remained  silent,  "  and  you  must  feel  that  it's  only  natural." 

"  I  hope  so,"  he  said  at  last,  repressing  a  sigh ;  "  all  things 
are  changing." 

"  What  can  we  do  ?  "  Julia  asked,  that  evening,  when  he 
had  communicated  to  her  his  aunt's  resolution  ;  "  it  would 
be  so  delightful  if  she  would  stay,  and  yet  I  have  had  a  pre- 
sentiment that  she  would  leave  us — for  a  little  while  only,  1 
hope.  Dear,  good  Aunt  Rachel !  I  couldn't  help  seeing  how 
bard  it  was  for  her  to  allow  the  least  change  in  the  order  of 
housekeeping.  She  would  be  perfectly  happy  if  I  would  sit 
vtill  all  day  and  let  her  tire  herself  to  death ;  but  how  can  I 
do  that,  Joseph  ?  And  no  two  women  have  exactly  the  same 
ways  and  habits.  I've  tried  to  make  everything  pleasan*. 
for  her  :  if  she  would  only  leave  many  little  matters  entirely 
to  me,  or  at  least  not  think  of  them, — but  I  fear  she  cannot. 
She  manages  to  see  the  least  that  I  do,  and  secretly  worries 
about  it,  in  the  very  kindness  of  her  heart.  Why  can't  wo- 
men carry  on  partnerships  in  housekeeping  as  men  do  in 
business  ?  I  suppose  we  are  too  particular  ;  perhaps  I  am 
just  as  much  so  as  Aunt  Rachel.  I  have  no  doubt  she 

thinks  a  little  hardly  of  me,  and  so  it  would  do  her  good — 

7 


146  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FBIEND. 

we  should  really  come  nearer  again — if  she  had  a  change 
If  she  will  go,  Joseph,  she  must  at  least  leave  us  with  the 
feeling  that  our  home  is  always  hers,  whenever  she  chooses 
to  accept  it." 

Julia  bent  over  Joseph's  chair,  gave  him  a  rapid  kiss,  and 
then  went  off  to  make  her  peace  with  Aunt  Rachel.  When 
the  two  women  came  to  the  tea-table  the  latter  had  an  un- 
certain, bewildered  air,  while  the  eyelids  of  the  former  were 
red, — either  from  tears  or  much  rubbing. 

A  fortnight  afterwards  Rachel  Miller  left  the  farm  and 
went  to  reside  with  her  widowed  niece,  in  Magnolia. 

The  day  after  her  departure  another  surprise  came  to  Jo- 
seph in  the  person  of  his  father-in-law.  Mr.  Blessing  arrived 
in  a  hired  vehicle  from  the  station.  His  face  was  so  red  and 
radiant  from  the  March  winds,  and  perhaps  some  private 
source  of  satisfaction,  that  his  sudden  arrival  could  not  pos- 
sibly be  interpreted  as  an  omen  of  ill-fortune.  He  shook 
hands  with  the  Irish  groom  who  had  driven  him  over,  gave 
him  a  handsome  .gratuity  in  addition  to  the  hire  of  the  team, 
extracted  an  elegant  travelling-satchel  from  under  the  seat, 
and  met  Joseph  at  the  gate,  with  a  breezy  burst  of  feeling : — 

"  God  bless  you,  son-in-law  !  It  does  my  heart  good  to 
see  you  again  !  And  then,  at  last,  the  pleasure  of  behold- 
ing your  ancestral  seat;  really,  this  is  quite — quite  mano- 
rial!" 

Julia,  with  a  loud  cry  of  "  O  pa  !  "  came  rushing  from 
the  house. 

"  Bless  me,  how  wild  and  fresh  the  child  looks !  "  cried 
Mr.  Blessing,  after  the  embrace.  "  Only  see  the  country 
roses  on  her  cheeks  !  Almost  too  young  and  sparkling  for 
Lady  Asten,  of  Asten  Hall,  eh?  As  Dryden  says,  '  Happy, 
happy,  happy  pah  1  '  It  takes  me  back  to  the  days  when  / 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FEIEND. 

was  a  gay  young  lark ;  but  I  must  hare  a  care,  and  not 
make  an  old  fool  of  myself.  Let  us  go  in  and  subside  into 
soberness  :  I  am  ready  both  to  laugh  and  cry." 

When  they  were  seated  in  the  comfortable  front  room, 
Mr.  Blessing  opened  his  satchel  and  produced  a  large  lea- 
ther-covered flask.  Julia  was  probably  accustomed  to  his 
habits,  for  she  at  once  brought  a  glass  from  the  sideboard. 

"  I  am  still  plagued  with  my  old  cramps,"  her  father  said 
to  Joseph,  as  he  poured  out  a  stout  dose.  "  Physiologists, 
you  know,  have  discovered  that  stimulants  diminish  the  wear 
and  tear  of  life,  and  I  find  their  theories  correct.  You,  in 
your  pastoral  isolation  and  pecuniary  security,  can  form  no 
conception  of  the  tension  under  which  we  men  of  office  and 
of  the  world  live.  Heatus  tile,  and  so  forth, — strange  that 
the  only  fragment  of  Latin  which  I  remember  should  be  so 
appropriate  !  A  little  water,  if  you  please,  Julia." 

In  the  evening,  when  Mr.  Blessing,  slippered,  sat  before 
the  open  fireplace,  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  the  object  of 
his  sudden  visit  crept  by  slow  degrees  to  the  light.  "  Have 
you  been  dipping  into  oil  ?  "  he  asked  Joseph. 

Julia  made  haste  to  reply.  "  Not  yet,  but  almost  every- 
body in  the  neighborhood  is  ready  to  do  so  now,  since  Clem- 
son  has  realized  his  fifty  thousand  dollars  in  a  single  year 
They  are  talking  of  nothing  else  in  the  village.  I  heard 
yesterday,  Joseph,  that  Old  Bishop  has  taken  three  thou- 
sand dollars'  worth  of  stock  in  a  new  company." 

ft  Take  my  advice,  and  don't  touch  'em  !  "  exclaimed  Mr. 
Blessing. 

"  I  had  not  intended  to,"  said  Joseph. 

"  There  is  this  thing  about  these  excitements,"  Mr.  Bless- 
ing continued :  "  they  never  reach  the  rural  districts  until 
the  first  sure  harvest  is  over.  The  sharp,  intelligent  opera- 


148  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

tors  in  the  large  cities — the  men  who  are  ready  to  take  uf 
soap,  thimbles,  hand-organs,  electricity,  or  hymn-books,  at  a 
moment's  notice — always  cut  into  a  new  thing  before  its 
value  is  guessed  by  the  multitude.  Then  the  smaller  fry 
follow  and  secure  their  second  crop,  while  your  quiet  men 
in  the  country  are  shaking  their  heads  and  crying  'hum- 
bug ! '  Finally,  when  it  really  gets  to  be  a  humbug,  in  a 
speculative  sense,  they  just  begin  to  believe  in  it,  and  are 
fair  game  for  the  bummers  and  camp-followers  of  the  finan- 
cial army.  I  respect  Clemson,  though  I  never  heard  of  him 
before ;  as  for  Old  Bishop,  he  may  be  a  very  worthy  man, 
but  he'll  never  see  the  color  of  his  three  thousand  dollars 
again." 

"  Pa  !  "  cried  Julia,  "  how  clear  you  do  make  everything. 
And  to  think  that  I  was  wishing — O,  wishing  so  much ! — 
that  Joseph  would  go  into  oil." 

She  hung  her  head  a  little,  looking  at  Joseph  with  an 
affectionate,  penitent  glance.  A  quick  gleam  of  satisfaction 
passed  over  Mr.  Blessing's  face;  he  smiled  to  himself,  puffed 
rapidly  at  his  cigar  for  a  minute,  and  then  resumed :  "  In 
such  a  field  of  speculation  everything  depends  on  being  ini- 
tiated. There  are  men  in  the  city — friends  of  mine — who 
know  every  foot  of  ground  in  the  Alleghany  Valley.  They 
can  smell  oil,  if  it's  a  thousand  feet  deep.  They  never  touch 
a  thing  that  isn't  safe, — but,  then,  they  know  whats  safe. 
In  spite  of  the  swindling  that's  going  on,  it  lakes  years  to 
exhaust  the  good  points  ;  just  so  sure  as  your  honest  neigh- 
bors here  will  lose,  just  so  sure  will  these  friends  of  mine 
gain.  There  are  millions  in  what  they  have  under  way,  at 
this  moment." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  Julia  breathlessly  asked,  while  Joseph's 
face  betrayed  that  his  interest  was  somewhat  :. roused. 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FEIKND.  149 

Mr.  Blessing  unlocked  his  satchel,  and  took  from  it  a  rolJ 
of  paper,  which  he  began  to  unfold  upon  his  knee.  "  Here,'' 
he  said,  "  you  see  this  bend  of  the  river,  just  about  the  cen- 
tre of  the  oil  region,  which  is  represented  by  the  yellow 
color.  These  little  dots  above  the  bend  are  the  celebrated 
Fluke  Wells ;  the  other  dots  below  are  the  equally  cele- 
brated Chowder  Wells.  The  distance  between  the  two  is 
nearly  three  miles.  Here  is  an  untouched  portion  of  the 
treasure, — a  pocket  of  Pactolus  waiting  to  be  rifled.  A  few 
of  us  have  acquired  the  land,  and  shall  commence  boring 
immediately." 

"  But,"  said  Joseph,  "  it  seems  to  me  that  either  the  at- 
tempt must  have  been  made  already,  or  that  the  land  must 
command  such  an  enormous  price  as  to  lessen  the  profits." 

"  Wisely  spoken  !  It  is  the  first  question  which  would 
occur  to  any  prudent  mind.  But  what  if  I  say  that  neither 
is  the  case  ?  And  you,  who  are  familiar  with  the  frequent 
eccentricities  of  old  farmers,  can  understand  the  explanation. 
The  owner  of  the  land  was  one  of  your  ignorant,  stubborn 
men,  who  took  such  a  dislike  to  the  prospectors  and  specu- 
lators, that  he  refused  to  let  them  come  near  him.  Both  the 
Fluke  and  Chowder  Companies  tried  their  best  to  buy  him 
out,  but  he  had  a  malicious  pleasure  in  leading  them  on  to 
make  immense  offers,  and  then  refusing.  Well,  a  few 
months  ago  he  died,  and  his  heirs  were  willing  enough  to  let 
the  land  go  ;  but  before  it  could  be  regularly  offered  for  sale, 
the  Fluke  and  Chowder  Wells  began  to  flow  less  and  less. 
Their  shares  fell  from  270  to  95  ;  the  supposed  value  of  the 
land  fell  with  them,  and  finally  the  moment  arrived  when 
we  could  purchase  for  a  very  moderate  sum.  I  see  the  ques- 
tion in  your  mind  ;  why  should  we  wish  to  buy  when  the 
other  wells  were  giving  out  ?  There  comes  in  the  secret, 


150  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

wnich  is  our  veritable  success.  Consider  it  whispered  in 
your  ears,  and  locked  in  your  bosoms, — torpedoes !  It  was 
not  then  generally  exploded  (to  carry  out  the  image),  so  wo 
bought  at  the  low  figure,  in  the  very  nick  of  time.  Within 
a  week  the  Fluke  and  Chowder  Wells  were  torpedoed,  and 
came  back  to  more  than  their  former  capacity  ;  the  shares 
rose  as  rapidly  as  they  had  fallen,  and  the  central  body  we 
hold — to  which  they  are,  as  it  were,  the  two  arms — could 
now  be  sold  for  ten  times  what  it  cost  us ! " 

Here  Mr.  Blessing  paused,  with  his  finger  on  the  map, 
and  a  light  of  merited  triumph  in  his  eyes.  Julia  clapped 
her  hands,  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  cried :  "  Trumps  at 
last ! " 

"  Ay,"  said  he,  "  wealth,  repose  for  my  old  days, — 
wealth  for  us  all,  if  your  husband  will  but  take  the  hand 
I  hold  out  to  bin.  You  now  know,  son-in-law,  why  the 
endorsement  you  gave  me  was  of  such  vital  importance  ; 
the  note,  as  you  are  aware,  will  mature  in  another  week 
Why  should  you  not  charge  yourself  with  the  payment, 
in  consideration  of  the  transfer  to  you  of  shares  of  the 
original  stock,  already  so  immensely  appreciated  in  value  ? 
I  have  delayed  making  any  provision,  for  the  sake  of 
offering  you  the  chance." 

Julia  was  about  to  speak,  but  restrained  herself  with 
an  apparent  effort. 

"  I  should  like  to  know,"  Joseph  said,  "  who  are  asso- 
ciated with  you  in  the  undertaking  ?  " 

"Well  done,  again!  Where  did  you  get  your  practical 
shrewdness  ?  The  best  men  in  the  city ! — not  only  the 
Collector  and  the  Surveyor,  but  Congressman  Whaley, 
E.  D.  Stokes,  of  Stokes,  Pirricutt  and  Company,  and  even 
the  Reverend  Doctor  Lellifant.  If  I  had  not  been  an 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  151 

old  friend  of  Kanuck,  the  agent  who  negotiated  th« 
purchase,  my  chance  would  have  been  impalpably  small 
I  have  all  the  documents  with  me.  There  has  been  nc 
more  splendid  opportunity  since  oil  became  a  power ! 
I  hesitate  to  advise  even  one  so  near  to  me  in  such 
matters ;  but  if  you  knew  the  certainties  as  I  know  them, 
you  would  go  in  with  all  your  available  capital.  The 
excitement,  as  you  say,  has  reached  the  country  com- 
munities, which  are  slow  to  rise  and  equally  slow  to 
subside;  all  oil  stock  will  be  in  demand,  but  the  Ama- 
ranth,— '  The  Blessing,'  they  wished  to  call  it,  but  I  was 
obliged  to  decline,  for  official  reasons, — the  Amaranth 
shares  will  be  the  golden  apex  of  the  market !  " 

Julia  looked  at  Joseph  with  eager,  hungry  eyes.  He, 
too,  was  warmed  and  tempted  by  the  prospect  of  easy 
profit  which  the  scheme  held  out  to  him;  only  the  habit 
of  his  nature  resisted,  but-  with  still  diminishing  force. 
"  1  might  venture  the  thousand,"  he  said. 

"  It  is  no  venture !  "  Julia  cried.  "  In  all  the  specu 
latious  I  have  heard  discussed  by  pa  and  his  friends, 
there  was  nothing  so  admirably  managed  as  this.  Such 
a  certainty  of  profit  may  never  come  again.  If  you 
will  be  advised  by  me,  Joseph,  you  will  take  shares  to 
the  amount  of  five  or  ten  thousand." 

"  Ten  thousand  is  exactly  the  amount  I  hold  open," 
Mr.  Blessing  gravely  remarked.  "  That,  however,  does 
not  represent  the  necessary  payment,  which  can  hardly 
amount  to  more  than  twenty-?  ve  per  cent,  before  we 
begin  to  realize.  Only  ten  per  lent,  has  yet  been  called, 
so  that  your  thousand  at  present  will  secure  you  an  in- 
vestment of  ten  thousand.  Really,  it  seems  like  a  for- 
tunate coincidence." 


152  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

He  went  on,  heating  himself  with  his  own  words,  \intil 
the  possibilities  of  the  case  grew  so  splendid  that  Joseph 
felt  himself  dazzled  and  bewildered.  Mr.  Blessing  was 
a  master  in  the  art  of  seductive  statement.  Even  where 
he  was  only  the  mouthpiece  of  another,  a  few  repetitions 
led  him  to  the  profoundest  belief.  Here  there  could  be 
no  doubt  of  his  sincerity,  and,  moreover,  every  movement 
from  the  very  inception  of  the  scheme,  every  statistical 
item,  all  collateral  influences,  were  clear  in  his  mind  and 
instantly  accessible.  Although  he  began  by  saying,  "  I 
will  make  no  estimate  of  the  profits,  because  it  is  not  pru- 
dent to  fix  our  hopes  on  a  positive  sum,"  he  was  soon 
carried  far  away  from  this  resolution,  and  most  luxuri- 
ously engaged,  pencil  in  hand,  in  figuring  out  results  which 
drove  Julia  wild  with  desire,  and  almost  took  away  Joseph's 
breath.  The  latter  finally  said,  as  they  rose  from  the 
session,  late  at  night : — 

"  It  is  settled  that  I  take  as  much  as  the  thousand  will 
cover;  but  I  would  rather  think  over  the  matter  quietly 
for  a  day  or  two  before  venturing  further." 

"  You  must,"  replied  Mr.  Blessing,  patting  him  on 
the  shoulder.  "  These  things  are  so  new  to  your  experi- 
ence, that  they  disturb  and— I  might  almost  say — alarm 
you.  [t  is  like  bringing  an  increase  of  oxygen  into  your 
mental  atmosphere.  (Ha !  a  good  figure :  for  the  result 
will  be,  a  richer,  fuller  life.  I  must  r  member  it.)  But 
you  are  a  healthy  organization,  and  therefore  you  are 
certain  to  see  clearly :  I  can  wait  with  confidence." 

The  next  morning  Joseph,  without  declaring  his  pur- 
pose, drove  to  Coventry  Forge  to  consult  Philip.  Mr. 
Blessing  and  Julia,  remaining  at  home,  wen*  over  the 
ground  again,  and  yet  again,  confirming  each 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  153 

other  in  the  determination  to  secure  it.  Even  Joseph,  air 
he  passed  up  the  valley  in  the  mild  March  weather,  taking 
note  of  the  crimson  and  gold  of  the  flowering  spice-bushes 
and  maple-trees,  could  not  prevent  his  thoughts  from 
dwelling  on  the  delights  of  wealth, — society,  books,  travel, 
and  all  the  mellow,  fortunate  expansion  of  life.  Involun- 
tarily, he  hoped  that  Philip's  counsel  might  coincide  with 
bis  father-in-law's  offer. 

But  Philip  was  not  at  home.  The  forge  was  in  full  acti- 
vity, the  cottage  on  the  knoll  was  repainted  and  made 
attractive  in  various  ways,  and  Philip  would  soon  return 
with  his  sister  to  establish  a  permanent  home.  Joseph 
found  the  sign-spiritual  of  his  friend  in  numberless  little 
touches  and  changes;  it  seemed  to  him  that  a  new  soul 
had  entered  into  the  scenery  of  the  place. 

A  mile  or  two  farther  up  the  valley,  a  company  of 
mechanics  and  laborers  were  apparently  tearing  the  old 
Calvert  mansion  inside  out.  House,  barn,  garden,  and 
lawn  were  undergoing  a  complete  transformation.  While 
he  paused  at  the  entrance  of  the  private  lane,  to  take  a 
survey  of  the  operations,  Mr.  Clemson  rode  down  to  him 
from  the  house.  The  Hopetons,  he  said,  would  migrate 
from  the  city  early  in  May :  work  had  already  commenced 
on  the  new  railway,  and  in  another  year  a  different  life 
would  come  upon  the  whole  neighborhood. 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation  Joseph  ventured  to 
sound  Mr.  Clemson  in  regard  to  the  newly  formed  oil 
companies.  The  latter  frankly  confessed  that  he  had 
withdrawn  from  further  speculation,  satisfied  with  hia 
fortune ;  he  preferred  to  give  no  opinion,  further  than 
that  money  was  still  to  be  made,  if  prudently  placed. 

The  Fluke  and   Chowdur  Wells,  he    said,   were  old,  well 
7* 


154  JOSEPH    AND   HTS   FRIEND. 

known,  and  profitable.  The  new  application  of  torpedoes 
had  restored  their  failing  flow,  and  the  stock  had  recovered 
from  its  temporary  depreciation.  His  own  venture  had 
been  made  in  another  part  of  the  region. 

The  atmosphere  into  which  Joseph  entered,  on  return- 
ing home,  took  away  all  further  power  of  resistance. 
Tempted  already,  and  impressed  by  what  he  had  learned, 
he  did  what  his  wife  and  father-in-law  desired. 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FELEND.  156 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A   DINNER    PARTY. 

HAVING  assumed  the  payment  of  Mr.  Blessing's  nott, 
as  the  first  instalment  upon  his  stock,  Joseph  was  com- 
pelled to  prepare  himself  for  future  emergencies.  A  year 
must  still  elapse  before  the  term  of  the  mortgage  upon 
his  farm  would  expire,  but  the  sums  he  had  invested  for 
the  purpose  of  meeting  it  when  due  must  be  held  ready 
for  use.  The  assurance  of  great  and  certain  profit  in  the 
mean  time  rendered  this  step  easy ;  and,  even  at  the  worst, 
he  reflected,  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  procuring  a 
new  mortgage  whereby  to  liquidate  the  old.  A  notice 
which  he  received  at  this  time,  that  a  second  assessment 
of  ten  per  cent,  on  the  Amaranth  stock  had  been  made, 
was  both  unexpected  and  disquieting.  Mr.  Blessing, 
however,  accompanied  it  with  a  letter,  making  clear  not 
only  the  necessity,  but  the  admirable  wisdom  of  a  greater 
present  outlay  than  had  been  anticipated.  So  the  first 
of  April — the  usual  business  anniversary  of  the  neighbor- 
hood— went  smoothly  by.  Money  was  plenty,  the  Asten 
credit  had  always  been  sound,  and  Joseph  tasted  for  the 
first  time  a  pleasant  sense  of  power  in  so  easily  receiving 
and  transferring  considerable  sums. 

One  result  of  the  venture  was  the  development  of  a  new 
phase  in  Julia's  nature.  She  not  only  accepted  the  future 
profit  as  certain,  but  she  had  apparently  calculated  its  exact 
amount  and  framed  her  plans  accordingly.  If  she  had  beer- 


156  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FK1KND. 

humiliated  by  the  character  of  Joseph's  first  business  trans, 
action  with  her  father,  she  now  made  amends  for  it.  "  Pa  " 
was  their  good  genius.  "  Pa  "  was  the  agency  whereby  they 
should  achieve  wealth  and  social  importance.  Joseph  now 
had  the  clearest  evidence  of  the  difference  between  a  man 
who  knew  the  world  and  was  of  value  in  it,  and  their  slow, 
dull-headed  country  neighbors.  Indeed,  Julia  seemed  to 
consider  the  Asten  property  as  rather  contemptible  beside 
the  splendor  of  the  Blessing  scheme.  Her  gratitude  for  a 
quiet  home,  her  love  of  country  life,  her  disparagement  of 
the  shams  and  exactions  of  "  society,"  were  given  up  as  sud- 
donly  and  coolly  as  if  she  had  never  affected  them.  She 
gave  herself  no  pains  to  make  the  transition  gradual,  and 
thus  lessen  its  shock.  Perhaps  she  supposed  that  Joseph's 
fresh,  unsuspicious  nature  was  so  plastic  that  it  had  already 
sufficiently  taken  her  impress,  and  that  he  would  easily  for- 
get the  mask  she  had  worn.  If  so,  she  was  seriously  mis- 
taken. 

He  saw,  with  a  deadly  chill  of  the  heart,  the  change  in 
her  manner, — a  change  so  complete  that  another  face  con- 
fronted him  at  the  table,  even  as  another  heart  beat  beside 
his  on  the  dishallowed  marriage-bed.  He  saw  the  gentle 
droop  vanish  from  the  eyelids,  leaving  the  cold,  flinty  pupils 
unshaded ;  the  soft  appeal  of  the  half-opened  lips  was  lost 
in  the  rigid,  almost  cruel  compression  which  now  seemed 
habitual  to  them ;  all  the  slight  dependent  gestures,  the  ten- 
der airs  of  reference  to  his  will  or  pleasure,  had  rapidly 
transformed  themselves  into  expressions  of  command  or  ob- 
stinate resistance.  But  the  patience  of  a  loving  man  is 
equal  to  that  of  a  loving  woman:  he  was  silent,  although 
bis  silence  covered  an  ever-increasing  sense  of  outrage. 

Once  it  happened,  that  after  Julia  had  been  unusually 


JOSEPH   AND   HI8   FRIEND.  157 

eloquent  concerning  "  what  pa  is  doing  for  us,"  and  whaf 
use  they  should  make  of  "  pa's  money,  as  I  call  it,"  Joseph 
quietly  remarked : — 

"  You  seem  to  forget,  Julia,  that  without  my  money  not 
much  could  have  been  done." 

An  angry  color  came  into  her  face ;  but,  on  second  thought, 
she  bent  her  head,  and  murmured  in  an  offended  voice  :  "  It 
is  very  mean  and  ungenerous  in  you  to  refer  to  our  tempo- 
rary poverty.  You  might  forget,  by  this  time,  the  help  pa 
was  compelled  to  ask  of  you." 

"  I  did  not  think  of  that !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Besides, 
you  did  not  seem  entirely  satisfied  with  my  help,  at  the 
time." 

"  O,  how  you  misunderstand  me !  "  she  groaned.  "  I 
only  wished  to  know  the  extent  of  his  need.  He  is  so 
generous,  so  considerate  towards  us,  that  we  only  guess  his 
misfortune  at  the  last  moment." 

The  possibility  of  being  unjust  silenced  Joseph.  There 
were  tears  in  Julia's  voice,  and  he  imagined  they  would  soon 
rise  to  her  eyes.  After  a  long,  uncomfortable  pause,  he 
said,  for  the  sake  of  changing  the  subject :  "  What  can  have 
become  of  El  wood  Withers?  I  have  not  seen  bim  for 
months." 

"  I  don't  think  you  need  care  to  know,"  she  remarked. 
"  He's  a  rough,  vulgar  fellow  :  it's  just  as  well  if  he  keepa 
away  from  us." 

"  Julia !  he  is  my  friend,  and  must  always  be  welcome  to 
me.  You  were  friendly  enough  towards  him,  and  towards 
all  the  neighborhood,  last  summer :  how  is  it  that  you  have 
not  a  good  word  to  say  now  ?  " 

He  spoke  warmly  and  indignantly.  Julia,  however,  look- 
ed at  him  with  a  calm,  smiling  face.  "  It  is  very  simple," 


158  JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

she  said.  "You  will  agree  with  me,  in  another  year.  A 
guest,  as  I  was,  must  try  to  see  only  the  pleasant  side  of 
people:  that's  our  duty;  and  so  I  enjoyed — as  much  as  I 
could — the  rusticity,  the  awkwardness,  the  ignorance,  the 
(now,  don't  be  vexed,  dear  !) — the  vulgarity  of  yoxir  friend. 
As  one  of  the  society  of  the  neighborhood,  as  a  resident,  I 
am  not  bound  by  any  such  delicacy.  I  take  the  same  right 
to  judge  and  select  as  I  should  take  anywhere.  Unless  I 
am.  to  be  hypocritical,  I  cannot — towards  you,  at  least — 
conceal  my  real  feelings.  How  shall  I  ever  get  you  to  see 
the  difference  between  yourself  and  these  people,  unless  I 
continually  point  it  out  ?  You  are  modest,  and  don't  like 
to  acknowledge  your  own  superiority." 

She  rose  from  the  table,  laughing,  and  went  out  of  the 
room  humming  a  lively  air,  leaving  Joseph  to  make  the  best, 
of  her  words. 

A  few  days  after  this  the  work  on  the  branch  railway, 
extending  down  the  valley,  reached  a  point  where  it  could 
be  seen  from  the  Asten  farm.  Joseph,  on  riding  over  to  in- 
spect the  operations,  was  'surprised  to  find  Elwood,  who  had 
left  his  father's  place  and  become  a  sub-contractor.  The 
latter  showed  his  hearty  delight  at  their  meeting. 

"  I've  been  meaning  to  come  up,"  he  said,  "  but  this  is  a 
busy  time  for  me.  It's  a  chance  I  couldn't  let  slip,  and  now 
that  I've  taken  hold  I  must  hold  on.  I  begin  to  think  this 
is  the  thing  I  was  made  for,  Joseph." 

"  I  never  thought  of  it  before,"  Joseph  answered,  "  and  yet 
Pm  sure  you  are  right.  How  did  you  hit  upon  it  ?  " 

"I didn't;  it  was  Mr.  Held." 

"  Philip  ?  " 

"  Him.  You  know  I've  been  hauling  for  the  Forge,  and 
BO  it  turned  up  by  degrees,  as  I  may  say.  He's  at  home, 


JOSEPH    AND    1118   FRIEND.  15£ 

»nd,  I  expect,   looking  for  you.      But  how  are  you  now 
really  ?  " 

Elwood's  qxiestion  meant  a  great  deal  more  than  he  knew 
how  to  say.  Suddenly,  in  a  flash  of  memory,  their  talk  of 
the  previous  year  returned  to  Joseph's  mind;  he  saw  his 
friend's  true  instincts  and  his  own  blindness  as  never  be- 
fore. But  he  must  dissemble,  if  possible,  with  that  strong, 
rough,  kindly  face  before  him. 

"  O,"  he  said,  attempting  a  cheerful  air,  "  I  am  one  of  the 
old  folks  now.  You  must  come  up — " 

The  recollection  of  Julia's  words  cut  short  the  invitation 
upon  his  lips.  A  sharp  pang  went  through  his  heart,  and 
the  treacherous  blood  crowded  to  his  face  all  the  more  that 
he  tried  to  hold  it  back. 

"  Come,  and  I'll  show  you  where  we're  going  to  make 
the  cutting,"  Elwood  quietly  said,  taking  him  by  the  arm. 
Joseph  fancied,  thenceforth,  that  there  was  a  special  kind- 
ness in  his  manner,  and  the  suspicion  seemed  to  rankle  in 
his  mind  as  if  he  had  been  slighted  by  his  friend. 

As  before,  to  vary  the  tedium  of  his  empty  life,  so  now,  to 
escape  from  the  knowledge  which  he  found  himself  more  and 
more  powerless  to  resist,  he  busied  himself  beyond  all  need 
with  the  work  of  the  farm.  Philip  had  returned  with  his 
sister,  he  knew,  but  after  the  meeting  with  Elwood  he  shrank 
with  a  painful  dread  from  Philip's  heart-deep,  intimate  eye. 
Julia,  however,  all  the  more  made  use  of  the  soft  spring 
weather  to  survey  the  social  ground,  and  choose  where  to 
take  her  stand.  Joseph  scarcely  knew,  indeed,  how  exten- 
sive her  operations  had  been,  until  she  announced  an  in  vita-, 
tion  to  dine  with  the  Hopetons,  who  were  now  in  possession 
of  the  renovated  Calvert  place.  She  enlarged,  more  than 
was  necessary,  on  the  distinguished  city  position  of  the 


160  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   IfHEND. 

family,  and  the  importance  of  "  cultivating "  its  country 
members.  Joseph's  single  brief  meeting  with  Mr.  Hope- 
ton — who  was  a  short,  solid  man,  in  ripe  middle  age,  of  a 
thoroughly  cosmopolitan,  though  not  a  remarkably  intellec- 
tual stamp — had  been  agreeable,  and  he  recognized  the  obli- 
gation to  be  neighborly.  Therefore  he  readily  accepted  the 
invitation  on  his  own  grounds. 

When  the  day  arrived,  Julia,  after  spending  the  morning 
over  her  toilet,  came  forth  resplendent  in  rosy  silk,  bright 
and  dazzling  in  complexion,  and  with  all  her  former  grace  of 
languid  eyelids  and  parted  lips.  The  void  in  Joseph's  heart 
grew  wider  at  the  sight  of  her ;  for  he  perceived,  as  never 
before,  her  consummate  skill  in  assuming  a  false  character. 
Et  seemed  incredible  that  he  should  have  been  so  deluded. 
For  the  first  time  a  feeling  of  repulsion,  which  was  almost 
disgust,  came  upon  him  as  he  listened  to  her  prattle  of  de- 
light in  the  soft  weather,  and  the  fragrant  woods,  and  the 
blossoming  orchards.  Was  not,  also,  this  delight  assumed? 
he  asked  himself:  false  in  one  thing,  false  in  all,  was  the 
fatal  logic  which  then  and  there  began  its  torment. 

The  most  that  was  possible  in  such  a  short  time  had  been 
achieved  on  the  Calvert  place.  The  house  had  been  bright- 
ened, surrounded  by  light,  airy  verandas,  and  the  lawn  and 
garden,  thrown  into  one  and  given  into  the  hands  of  a  skil- 
ful gardener,  were  scarcely  to  be  recognized.  A  broad,  solid 
gravel-walk  replaced  the  old  tan-covered  path  ;  a  pretty 
fountain  tinkled  before  the  door ;  thick  beds  of  geranium 
in  flower  studded  the  turf,  and  veritable  thickets  of  rose- 
trees  were  waiting  for  June.  Within  the  house,  some  rooms 
had  been  thrown  together,  the  walls  richly  yet  harmoniously 
colored,  and  the  sumptuous  furniture  thus  received  a  proper 
setting.  In  contrast  to  the  houses  of  even  the  wealthiest 


JOSEPH   ANT)    HIS   FRIEND.  161 

farmers,  which  expressed  a  nicely  reckoned  sufficiency  jf 
comfort,  the  place  had  an  air  of  joyous  profusion,  of  a 
wealth  which  delighted  in  itself. 

Mr.  Hopeton  met  them  with  the  frank,  offhand  manner 
of  a  man  of  business.  His  wife  followed,  and  the  two 
guests  made  a  rapid  inspection  of  her  as  she  came  down  the 
hall.  Julia  noticed  that  her  crocus-colored  dress  was  high 
in  the  neck,  and  plainly  trimmed ;  that  she  wore  no  orna- 
meuts,  aud  that  the  natural  pallor  of  her  complexion  had 
not  been  corrected  by  art.  Joseph  remarked  the  simple 
grace  of  her  movement,  the  large,  dark,  inscrutable  eyes,  the 
smooth  bands  of  her  black  hair,  and  the  pure  though  some- 
what lengthened  oval  of  her  face.  The  gentle  dignity  of  her 
manner  more  than  refreshed,  it  soo'thed  him.  She  was  so 
much  younger  than  her  husband  that  Joseph  involuntarily 
wondered  how  they  should  have  come  together. 

The  greetings  were  scarcely  over  before  Philip  and  Made- 
line Held  arrived.  Julia,  with  the  least  little  gush  of  ten- 
derness, kissed  the  latter,  whom  Philip  then  presented  to 
Joseph  for  the  first  time.  She  had  the  same  wavy  hair  as 
her  brother,  but  the  golden  hue  was  deepened  nearly  into 
brown,  and  her  eyes  were  a  clear  hazel.  It  was  also  the 
same  frank,  firm  face,  but  her  woman's  smile  was  so  much 
the  sweeter  as  her  lips  were  lovelier  than  the  man's.  Joseph 
seemed  to  clasp  an  instant  friendship  in  her  offered  hand. 

There  was  but  one  other  guest,  who,  somewhat  to  his  sur- 
prise, was  Lucy  Henderson.  Julia  concealed  whatever  she 
might  have  felt,  and  made  so  much  reference  to  their  former 
meetings  as  might  satisfy  Lucy  without  conveying  to  Mrs. 
Hopeton  the  impression  of  any  special  intimacy.  Lucy 
looked  thin  and  worn,  and  her  black  silk  dress  was  not  ol 
tue  latest  fashion  :  she  seemed  to  be  the  poor  relation  of  the 


i62  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

company.  Joseph  learned  that  she  had  taken  one  of  the 
schools  in  the  valley,  for  the  summer.  Her  manner  to  him 
was  as  simple  and  friendly  as  ever,  but  he  felt  the  presence 
of  some  new  element  of  strength  and  self-reliance  in  her  na- 
ture. 

His  place  at  dinner  was  beside  Mrs.  Hopeton,  while 
Lucy — apparently  by  accident — sat  upon  the  other  side  of 
the  hostess.  Philip  and  the  host  led  the  conversation,  con  • 
fining  it  too  exclusively  to  the  railroad  and  iron  interests ; 
but  these  finally  languished,  and  gave  way  to  other  topics  in 
which  all  could  take  part.  Joseph  felt  that  while  the  others, 
except  Lucy  and  himself,  were  fashioned  under  different  as- 
pects of  life,  some  of  which  they  shared  in  common,  yet  that 
their  seeming  ease  and  freedom  of  communication  touched, 
here  and  there,  some  invisible  limit,  which  they  were  care- 
ful not  to  pass.  Even  Philip  appeared  to  be  beyond  his 
reach,  for  the  time. 

The  country  and  the  people,  being  comparatively  new  to 
them,  naturally  came  to  be  discussed. 

"  Mr.  Held,  or  Mr.  Asten, — either  of  you  know  both," — 
Mr.  Hopeton  asked,  "  what  are  the  principal  points  of  differ- 
ence between  society  in  the  city  and  in  the  country  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  know  too  little  of  the  city,"  said  Joseph. 

"  And  I  know  too  little  of  the  country, — here,  at  least," 
Philip  added.  "  Of  course  the  same  passions  and  prejudices 
come  into  play  everywhere.  There  are  circles,  there  are 
jealousies,  ups  and  downs,  scandals,  suppressions,  and  reha- 
bilitations :  it  can't  be  otherwise." 

"Are  they  not  a  little  worse  in  the  country,"  said  Julia, 
"  because — I  may  ask  tne  question  here,  among  its — there  is 
less  refinement  of  manner  ?  " 

"  If  the  external  forms  are  ruder,"  Philip  resumed,  "  it 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FKIEND.  IBS 

may  be  an  advantage,  in  one  sense.  Hypocrisy  cannot  br 
developed  into  an  art." 

Julia  bit  her  lip,  and  was  silent. 

"  But  are  the  country  people,  hereabouts,  so  rough  ?  "  Mrs. 
Hopeton  asked.  "  I  confess  that  they  don't  seem  so  to  me. 
What  do  you  say,  Miss  Henderson  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  am  not  an  impartial  witness,"  Lucy  answered. 
"  We  care  less  about  what  is  called  '  manners '  than  the  city 
people.  We  have  no  fixed  rules  for  dress  and  behavior, — only 
we  don't  like  any  one  to  differ  too  much  from  the  rest  of  us." 

"  That's  it !  "  Mr.  Hopeton  cried ;  "  the  tyrannical  level- 
ling sentiment  of  an  imperfectly  developed  community ! 
Fortunately,  I  am  beyond  its  reach." 

Julia's  eyes  sparkled:  she  looked  across  the  table  at  Jo- 
seph, with  a  triumphant  air. 

Philip  suddenly  raised  his  head.  "  How  would  you  cor- 
rect it  ?  Simply  by  resistance  ?  "  he  asked. 

Mr.  Hopeton  laughed.  "I  should  no  doubt  get  myself 
into  a  hornet's-nest.  No ;  by  indifference  ! " 

Then  Madeline  Held  spoke.  "  Excuse  me,"  she  said  ;  "  but 
is  indifference  possible,  even  if  it  were  right  ?  You  seem  to 
take  the  levelling  spirit  for  granted,  without  looking  into  its 
character  and  causes ;  there  must  be  some  natural  sense  of 
justice,  no  matter  how  imperfectly  society  is  developed.  We 
are  members  of  this  community, — at  least,  Philip  and  I  cer- 
tainly consider  ourselves  so, — and  I  am  determined  not  to 
judge  it  without  knowledge,  or  to  offend  what  may  be  only 
mechanical  habits  of  thought,  unless  I  can  see  a  sure  advan- 
tage in  doing  so." 

Lucy  Henderson  looked  at  the  speaker  with  a  bright, 
grateful  face.  Joseph's  eyes  wandered  from  her  to  Julia, 
who  was  silent  and  watchful. 


164  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  But  I  have  no  time  for  such  conscientious  studies,"  Mr 
Hopeton  resumed.  "  One  can  be  satisfied  with  half  a  dozen 
neighbors,  and  let  the  mass  go.  Indifference,  after  all,  is  the 
best  philosophy.  What  do  you  say,  Mr.  Held  ?  " 

"  Indifference  !  "  Philip  echoed.  A  dark  flush  came  into 
his  face,  and  he  was  silent  a  moment.  "  Yes :  our  hearts  are 
inconvenient  appendages.  We  suffer  a  deal  from  unneces- 
sary sympathies,  and  from  imagining,  I  suppose,  that  others 
feel  them  as  we  do.  These  uneasy  features  of  society  are 
simply  the  effort  of  nature  to  find  some  occupation  for  brains 
otherwise  idle — or  empty.  Teach  the  people  to  think,  and 
they  will  disappear." 

Joseph  stared  at  Philip,  feeling  that  a  secret  bitterness  was 
hidden  under  his  careless,  mocking  air.  Mrs.  Hopeton  rose, 
and  the  company  left  the  table.  Madeline  Held  had  a 
troubled  expression,  but  there  was  an  eager,  singular  bright- 
ness in  Julia's  eyes. 

"  Emily,  let  us  have  coffee  on  the  veranda,"  said  Mr. 
Hopeton,  leading  the  way.  He  had  already  half  forgotten 
the  subject  of  conversation :  his  own  expressions,  in  fact, 
had  been  made  very  much  at  random,  for  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  keeping  up  the  flow  of  talk.  He  had  no  very 
fixed  views  of  any  kind,  beyond  the  sphere  of  his  business 
astivity. 

Philip,  noticing  the  impression  he  had  made  on  Joseph, 
drew  him  to  one  side.  "  Don't  seriously  remember  my 
words  against  me,"  he  said  ;  "  you  were  sorry  to  hear  them, 
I  know.  All  I  meant  was,  that  an  over-sensitive  tenderness 
towards  everybody  is  a  fault.  Besides,  I  was  provoked  tc 
answer  him  in  his  own  vein.1' 

"  But,  Philip  !  "  Joseph  whispered,  "  such  words  tempt 
me  !  What  if  they  were  true  ?  " 


JOSEPH    AND   III8    FRIEND.  165 

Philip  grasped  his  arm  with  a  painful  force  "  Thej 
never  can  be  true  to  you,  Joseph,"  he  said. 

Gray  and  pleasant  as  the  company  seemed  to  be,  each  one 
felt  a  secret  sense  of  relief  when  it  came  to  an  end.  As  Jo- 
seph drove  homewards,  silently  recalling  what  had  been 
said,  Julia  interrupted  his  reflections  with  :  "  Well,  what  do 
you  think  of  the  Hopetons  ?  " 

"  She  is  an  interesting  woman,"  he  answered. 

"  But  reserved ;  and  she  shows  very  little  taste  in  dress. 
However,  I  suppose  you  hardly  noticed  anything  of  the 
kind.  She  kept  Lucy  Henderson  beside  her  as  a  foil :  Ma- 
deline Held  would  have  been  damaging." 

Joseph  only  partly  guessed  her  meaning ;  it  was  repug- 
nant, and  he  determined  to  avoid  its  further  discussion. 

"  Hopeton  is  a  shrewd  business  man,"  Julia  continued, 
"  but  he  cannot  compare  with  her  for  shrewdness — either 
with  her  or— Philip  Held  !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  made  a  discovery  before  the  dinner  was  over,  which 
you — innocent,  unsuspecting  man  that  you  are — might  have 
before  your  eyes  for  years,  without  seeing  it.  Tell  me  now, 
honestly,  did  you  notice  nothing  ?  " 

"  What  should  I  notice,  beyond  what  was  said  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  That  was  the  least ! "  she  cried ;  "  but,  of  course,  I 
knev  you  couldn't.  And  perhaps  you  won't  believe  me, 
when  T  tell  you  that  Philip  Held, — your  particular  friend, 
your  hero,  for  aught  I  know,  your  pattern  of  virtue  and 
character,  and  all  that  is  manly  and  noble, — that  Philip 
Held,  I  say,  is  furiously  in  love  with  Mrs.  Hopeton  1 " 

Joseph  started  as  if  he  had  been  shot,  and  turned  around 
with  an  angry  red  on  his  brow.  "  Julia  1 "  he  said,  "  how 
dare  you  speak  so  of  Philip  !  " 


166  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FEIEND. 

She  laughed.  "  Because  I  dare  to  speak  the  truth,  when 
I  see  it.  I  thought  I  should  surprise  you.  I  remembered 
a  certain  rumor  I  had  heard  before  she  was  married, — while 
she  was  Emily  Marrable, — and  I  watched  them  closer  than 
they  guessed.  I'm  certain  of  Philip :  as  for  her,  she's  a 
deep  creature,  and  she  was  on  her  guard ;  but  they  aro 
near  neighbors." 

Joseph  was  thoroughly  aroused  and  indignant.  "  It  is 
your  own  fancy  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You  hate  Philip  on 
account  of  that  affair  with  Clementina ;  but  you  ought  to 
have  some  respect  for  the  woman  whose  hospitality  you 
have  accepted  ! " 

"  Bless  me !  I  have  any  quantity  of  respect  both  for  her 
and  her  furniture.  By  the  by,  Joseph,  our  parlor  would 
furnish  better  than  hers ;  I  have  been  thinking  of  a  few 
changes  we  might  make,  which  would  wonderfully  improve 
the  house.  As  for  Philip,  Clementina  was  a  fool.  She'd 
be  glad  enough  to  have  him  now,  but  in  these  matters,  once 
gone  is  gone  for  good.  Somehow,  people  who  marry  for 
love  very  often  get  rich  afterwards, — ourselves,  for  in 
stance." 

It  was  some  time  before  Joseph's  excitement  subsided 
He  had  resented  Julia's  suspicion  as  dishonorable  to  Philip, 
yet  he  could  not  banish  the  conjecture  of  its  possible  truth. 
]f  Philip's  affected  cynicism  had  ^mpted  him,  Julia's  un- 
blushing assumption  of  the  existent  of  a  passion  which  was 
forbidden,  and  therefore  positively  guilty,  seemed  to  stain 
the  pure  texture  of  his  nature.  The  lightness  with  which 
she  spoke  of  the  matter  was  even  more  abhorrent  to  him 
lhan  the  assertion  itself;  the  malicious  satisfaction  in  the 
tones  of  her  voice  had  not  escaped  his  ear. 

"  Julia,"  he  said,  just  before  they  reached  home,  "  do  not 


.IOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  167 

mention  your  fancy  to  another  soul  than  ine.     It  would 
reflect  discredit  on  you." 

"  You  are  innocent,"  she  answered.  "  And  you  are  not 
complimentary.  If  I  have  any  remarkable  quality,  it  \» 
tact.  Whenever  I  speak,  I  shall  know  the  effect  before 
hand ;  even  pa,  with  all  his  official  experience,  is  no  match 
for  me  in  this  line.  I  see  what  the  Hopetons  are  after,  and 
I  mean  to  show  them  that  we  were  first  in  the  field.  Don't 
be  concerned,  you  good,  excitable  creature,  you  are  no  match 
for  such  well-drilled  people.  Let  me  alone,  and  before  the 
•ummer  is  over  we  will  give  the  law  to  the  neighborhood  1 " 


lf>8  JOSEPH    AJND   HIS   FKTEN1X 


CHAPTER  XVL 

JOSEPH'S   TROUBLE,   AND    PHILIP'S. 

THE  bare,  repulsive,  inexorable  truth  was  revealed  at  last. 
There  was  no  longer  any  foothold  for  doubt,  any  possibility 
of  continuing  his  desperate  self-deceit.  From  that  day  all 
Mie  joy,  the  trust,  the  hope,  seemed  to  fade  out  of  Joseph's 
life.  What  had  been  lost  was  irretrievable :  the  delusion 
of  a  few  months  had  fixed  his  fate  forever. 

His  sense  of  outrage  was  so  strong  and  keen — so  burned 
upon  his  consciousness  as  to  affect  him  like  a  dull  physical 
pain — that  a  just  and  temperate  review  of  his  situation  was 
impossible.  False  in  one  thing,  false  in  all :  that  was  the 
single,  inevitable  conclusion.  Of  course  she  had  never  even 
loved  him.  Her  coy  maiden  airs,  her  warm  abandonment 
to  feeling,  her  very  tears  and  blushes,  were  artfully  simu- 
lated :  perhaps,  indeed,  she  had  laughed  in  her  heart,  yea, 
sneered,  at  his  credulous  tenderness  !  Her  assumption  of 
rule,  therefore,  became  an  arrogance  not  to  be  borne.  What 
right  had  she,  guilty  of  a  crime  for  which  there  is  no  name 
and  no  punishment,  to  reverse  the  secret  justice  of  the  soul 
and  claim  to  be  rewarded  ? 

So  reasoned  Joseph  to  himself,  in  his  solitary  breedings ; 
but  the  spell  was  not  so  entirely  broken  as  he  imagined. 
Sternly  as  he  might  have  resolved  in  advance,  there  was  a 
glamour  in  her  mask  of  cheerfulness  and  gentleness,  which 
made  his  resolution  seem  hard  and  cruel.  In  her  presence 
he  could  not  clearly  remember  bis  wrongs :  the  past  delusion 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  169 

had  been  a  reality,  nevertheless ;  and  he  could  make  no 
assertion  which  did  not  involve  his  own  miserable  humilia- 
tion. Thus  the  depth  and  vital  force  of  his  struggle  could 
not  be  guessed  by  Julia.  She  saw  only  irritable  moods,  the 
natural  male  resistance  which  she  had  often  remarked  in  her 
father, — perhaps,  also,  the  annoyance  of  giving  up  certain 
"  romantic  "  fancies,  which  she  believed  to  be  common  to  all 
young  men,  and  never  permanent.  Even  an  open  rupture 
could  not  have  pushed  them  apart  so  rapidly  as  this  hollow 
external  routine  of  life. 

Joseph  took  the  earliest  opportunity  of  visiting  Philip, 
whom  he  found  busy  in  forge  and  foundry.  u  This  would  be 
the  life  for  you ! "  he  said :  "  we  deal  only  with  physical 
forces,  human  and  elemental :  we  direct  and  create  power, 
yet  still  obey  the  couiruand  to  put  money  in  our  purses." 

"  Is  that  one  secret  of  your  strength  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 

"  Who  told  you  that  I  had  any  ?  " 

"  I  feel  it,"  said  Joseph ;  and  even  as  he  said  it  he  re- 
membered Julia's  unworthy  suspicion. 

"  Come  up  and  see  Madeline  a  moment,  and  the  home 
she  has  made  for  me.  We  get  on  very  well,  for  brother  and 
sister — especially  since  her  will  is  about  as  stubborn  as  mine." 

Madeline  was  very  bright  and  cheerful,  and  Joseph,  cer- 
tainly, saw  no  signs  of  a  stubborn  will  in  her  fair  face.  She 
was  very  simply  dressed,  and  busy  with  some  task  of 
needle-work,  which  she  did  not  lay  aside. 

"  You  might  puss  already  for  a  member  of  our  commu- 
nity," he  could  not  help  saying. 

"  I  think  your  most  democratic  farmers  will  accept  me," 
she  answered,  "  when  they  learn  that  I  am  Philip's  house- 
keeper.    The  only  dispute  we  have  had,  or  are  likely  to 
have,  is  in  relation  to  the  salary." 
8 


170  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FKIEND. 

"  She  is  an  inconsistent  creature,  Joseph,"  sail  PhLip 
"  I  was  obliged  to  offer  her  as  much  as  she  earned  by  hei 
music-lessons  before  she  would  come  at  all,  and  now  she 
can't  find  work  enough  to  balance  it." 

"  How  can  I,  Philip,  when  you  tempt  me  every  day 
with  walks  and  rides,  botany,  geology,  and  sketching  from 
nature  ?  " 

So  much  frank,  affectionate  confidence  showed  itself 
through  the  playful  gossip  of  the  two,  that  Joseph  was  at 
once  comforted  and  pained.  "  If  I  had  only  had  a  sister  !  " 
he  sighed  to  Philip,  as  they  walked  down  the  knoll. 

The  friends  took  the  valley  road,  Joseph  leading  his 
horse  by  the  bridle.  The  stream  was  full  to  its  banks,  and 
crystal  clear :  shoals  of  young  fishes  passed  like  drifted 
leaves  over  the  pebbly  ground,  and  the  fragrant  water- 
beetles  skimmed  the  surface  of  the  eddies.  Overhead  the 
vaults  of  the  great  elms  and  sycamores  were  filled  with  the 
green,  delicious  illumination  of  the  tender  foliage.  It  was 
a  scene  and  a  season  for  idle  happiness. 

Yet  the  first  words  Philip  spoke,  after  a  long  silence, 
were :  "  May  I  speak  now  ?  "  There  was  infinite  love  and 
pity  in  his  voice.  He  took  Joseph  by  the  hand. 

"  Yes,"  the  latter  whispered. 

"  It  has  come,"  Philip  continued ;  "  you  cannot  hide  it 
from  yourself  any  longer.  My  pain  is  that  I  did  not  dare 
to  warn  you,  though  at  the  risk  of  losing  your  friendship 
There  was  so  little  time — " 

"  You  did  try  to  warn  me,  Philip  !  I  have  recalled  your 
words,  and  the  trouble  in  your  face  as  you  spoke,  a  thou- 
sand times.  I  was  a  fool,  a  blind,  miserable  fool,  and  my 
folly  has  ruined  my  life  !  " 

"  Strange,"  said  Philip,  musingly,  "  that  only  a  perfectly 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  171 

good  and  pure  nature  can  fall  into  such  a  -wretched  snare. 
And  yet  '  Virtue  is  its  own  reward,'  is  dinned  into  our 
ears !  It  is  Hell  for  a  single  fault :  nay,  not  even  a  fault, 
an  innocent  mistake  !  But  let  us  see  what  can  be  done  •. 
is  there  no  common  ground  whereon  your  natures  can 
stand  together  ?  If  there  should  be  a  child — " 

Joseph  shuddered.  "  Once  it  seemed  too  great,  too  won- 
derful a  hope,"  he  said,  "  but  now,  I  don't  dare  to  wish  for 
it.  Philip,  I  am  too  sorely  hurt  to  think  clearly :  there  is 
nothing  to  do  but  to  wait.  It  is  a  miserable  kind  of  com- 
fort to  me  to  have  your  sympathy,  but  I  fear  you  cannot 
help  me." 

Philip  saw  that  he  could  bear  no  more :  his  face  was  pale 
to  the  lips  and  his  hands  trembled.  He  led  him  to  the  bank, 
sat  down  beside  him,  and  laid  his  arm  about  his  neck.  The 
silence  and  the  caress  were  more  soothing  to  Joseph  than 
any  words ;  he  soon  became  calm,  and  remembered  an  im- 
portant part  of  his  errand,  which  was  to  acquaint  Philip 
with  the  oil  speculation,  and  to  ask  his  advice. 

They  discussed  the  matter  long  and  gravely.  With  all  his 
questions,  and  the  somewhat  imperfect  information  which 
Joseph  was  able  to  give,  Philip  could  not  satisfy  himself 
whether  the  scheme  was  a  simple  swindle  or  a  well-con- 
sidered business  venture.  Two  or  three  of  the  names  were 
respectable,  but  the  chief  agent,  Kanuck,  was  unknown  to 
him ;  moreover,  Mr.  Blessing's  apparent  prominence  in 
the  undertaking  did  not  inspire  him  with  much  confidence. 

"  How  much  have  you  already  paid  on  the  stock  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Three  instalments,  which,  Mr.  Blessing  thinks,  is  all 
that  will  be  called  for.  However,  I  have  the  money  for  a 
fourth,  should  it  be  necessary.  He  writes  to  me  that  th« 
stock  has  already  risen  a  hundred  per  cent,  in  value.** 


172  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  If  that  is  so,"  said  Philip,  "  let  me  ad  riae  you  to  seb 
half  of  it,  at  once.  The  sum  received  will  cover  your  liabil 
ities,  and  the  half  you  retain,  as  a  venture,  will  give  you 
no  further  anxiety." 

"  I  had  thought  of  that ;  yet  I  am  sure  that  my  father- 
hi-law  will  oppose  such  a  step  with  all  his  might.  You 
must  know  him,  Philip ;  tell  me,  frankly,  your  opinion  of 
his  character." 

"Blessing  belongs  to  a  class  familiar  enough  to  me," 
Philip  answered ;  "  yet  I  doubt  whether  you  will  com- 
prehend it.  He  is  a  swaggering,  amiable,  magnificent 
adventurer;  never  purposely  dishonest,  I  am  sure,  yet 
sometimes  engaged  in  transactions  that  would  not  bear 
much  scrutiny.  His  life  has  been  one  of  ups  and  downs. 
After  a  successful  speculation,  he  is  luxurious,  open-handed, 
and  absurdly  self-confident ;  his  success  is  soon  flung  away  : 
he  then  good-humoredly  descends  to  poverty,  because  he 
never  believes  it  can  last  long.  He  is  unreliable,  from  his 
over-sanguine  temperament;  and  yet  this  very  temper- 
ament gives  him  a  certain  power  and  influence.  Some  of 
our  best  men  are  on  familiar  terms  with  him.  They  are  on 
their  guard  against  his  pecuniary  approaches,  they  laugt 
at  his  extravagant  schemes,  but  they  now  and  then  find 
him  useful.  I  heard  Gray,  the  editor,  once  speak  of  him  as 
a  man  '  filled  with  available  enthusiasms,'  and  I  guess  that 
phrase  hits  both  his  strength  and  his  weakness." 

On  the  whole,  Joseph  felt  rather  relieved  than  disquieted. 
The  heart  was  lighter  in  his  breast  as  he  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  homewards. 

Philip  slowly  walked  forwards,  yielding  his  mind  to 
thoughts  wherein  Joseph  was  an  important  but  not  the  prin- 
cipal figure.  Was  there  a  positive  strength,  he  asked  him* 


JOSEPH    AND    UTS    FRIEND.  173 

self,  in  a  wider  practical  experience  of  life?  Did  such  ex- 
perience really  strengthen  the  basis  of  character  which  must 
support  a  man,  when  some  unexpected  moral  crisis  cornea 
upon  him  ?  He  knew  that  he  seemed  strong,  to  Joseph  ;  but 
Ihe  latter,  so  far,  was  bearing  his  terrible  test  with  a  patience 
drawn  from  some  source  of  elemental  power.  Joseph  had 
simply  been  ignorant :  he  had  been  proud,  impatient,  and 
— he  now  confessed  to  himself — weakly  jealous.  In  both 
cases,  a  mistake  had  passed  beyond  the  plastic  stage  where 
life  may  still  be  remoulded  :  it  had  hardened  into  an  inexo- 
rable fate.  What  was  to  be  the  end  of  it  all  ? 

A  light  footstep  interrupted  his  reflections.  He  looked 
up,  and  almost  started,  on  finding  himself  face  to  face  with 
Mrs.  Hopeton. 

Her  face  was  flushed  from  her  walk  and  the  mellow 
warmth  of  the  afternoon.  She  held  a  bunch  of  wild-flowers, 
— pink  azaleas,  delicate  sigillarias,  valerian,  and  scarlet 
painted-cup.  She  first  broke  the  silence  by  asking  after 
Madeline. 

"  Busy  with  some  important  sewing, — curtains,  I  fancy. 
She  is  becoming  an  inveterate  housekeeper,"  Philip  said. 

"  I  am  glad,  for  hei  sake,  that  she  is  here.  And  it  must 
be  very  pleasant  for  you,  after  all  your  wanderings." 

"  I  must  look  on  it,  I  suppose,"  Philip  answered,  "  as  the 
only  kind  of  a  home  I  shall  ever  have, — while  it  lasts.  But 
Madeline's  life  must  not  be  mutilated  because  mine  happens 
to  be." 

The  warm  color  left  Mrs.  Hopeton's  face.  She  strove  to 
make  her  voice  cold  and  steady,  as  she  said  :  "  I  am  sorry 
to  see  you  growing  so  bitter,  Mr.  Held." 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  my  proper  nature,  Mrs.  Hopeton. 
But  you  startled  me  out  of  a  retrospect  which  had  exhaust 


174  JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FRIEND. 

ed  my  capacity  for  self-reproach,  and  was  about  to  become 
self-cursing.  There  is  no  bitterness  quite  equal  to  that  of 
seeing  how  weakly  one  has  thrown  away  an  irrecoverable 
fortune." 

She  stood  before  him,  silent  and  disturbed.  It  was  im- 
possible not  to  understand,  yet  it  seemed  equally  impossible 
to  answer  him.  She  gave  one  glance  at  his  earnest,  dark 
gray  eyes,  his  handsome  manly  face,  and  the  sprinkled 
glosses  of  sunshine  on  his  golden  hair,  and  felt  a  chill  strike 
to  her  heart.  She  moved  a  step,  as  if  to  end  the  inter- 
view. 

"  Only  one  moment,  Mrs.  Hopeton — Emily  !  "  Philip 
cried.  "  We  may  not  meet  again — thus — for  years.  I  will 
not  needlessly  recall  the  past.  I  only  mean  to  speak  of  my 
offence, — to  acknowledge  it,  and  exonerate  you  from  any 
share  in  the  misunderstanding  which — made  us  what  we 
are.  You  cannot  feel  the  burden  of  an  unpardoned  fault ; 
but  will  you  not  allow  me  to  lighten  mine  ?  " 

A  softer  change  came  over  her  stately  form.  Her  arm  re- 
laxed, and  the  wild-flowers  fell  upon  the  ground. 

"  I  was  wrong,  first,"  Philip  went  on,  "  in  not  frankly  con- 
fiding to  you  the  knowledge  of  a  boyish  illusion  and  dis- 
appointment. I  had  been  heartlessly  treated :  it  was  a  silly 
affair,  not  worth  the  telling  now ;  but  the  leaven  of  mistrust 
it  left  behind  was  not  fully  worked  out  of  my  nature.  Tbtn, 
too,  I  had  private  troubles,  which  my  pride — sore,  just  iion, 
from  many  a  trifling  prick,  at  which  I  should  now  laug>*  — 
led  me  to  conceal.  I  need  not  go  over  the  appearances 
which  provoked  me  into  a  display  of  temper  as  unjust  as  it 
was  unmanly, — it  is  enough  to  say  that  all  circumstances 
combined  to  make  me  impatient,  suspicious,  fiercely  jealous. 
[  never  paused  to  reflect  that  you  could  not  know  the  serial 


JOSEPH   AND    HIS   FRIEND.  175 

of  aggravations  which  preceded  our  misunderstanding.  I 
did  not  guess  how  far  I  was  giving  expression  to  them,  and 
unconsciously  transferring  to  you  the  offences  of  others, 
Nay,  I  exacted  a  completer  surrender  of  your  woman's 
pride,  because  a  woman  had  already  chosen  to  make  a  play- 
thing of  my  green  boy-love.  There  is  no  use  in  speaking  of 
any  of  the  particulars  of  our  quarrel ;  for  I  confess  to  you 
that  I  was  recklessly,  miserably  wrong.  But  the  time  has 
come  when  you  can  aflbrd  to  be  generous,  when  you  can 
allow  yourself  to  speak  my  forgiveness.  Not  for  the 
sake  of  anything  I  might  have  been  to  you,  but  as  a 
true  woman,  dealing  with  her  brother-man,  I  ask  your  par- 
don!" 

Mrs.  Hopeton  could  not  banish  the  memory  of  the  old 
tenderness  which  pleaded  for  Philip  in  her  heart.  He  had 
spoken  no  word  which  could  offend  or  alarm  her :  they  were 
safely  divided  by  a  gulf  which  might  never  be  bridged,  and 
perhaps  it  was  well  that  a  purely  Iniman  reconciliation 
should  now  clarify  what  was  turbid  in  the  past,  and  reunite 
them  by  a  bond  pure,  though  eternally  sad.  She  came  slow- 
ly towards  him,  and  gave  him  her  hand. 

"  All  is  not  only  pardoned,  Philip,"  she  said,  "  but  it  is 
now  doubly  my  duty  to  forget  it.  Do  not  suppose;  however, 
that  I  have  had  no  other  than  reproachful  memories.  My 
pride  was  as  unyielding  as  yours,  for  it  led  me  to  the  defiance 
which  you  could  not  then  endure.  I,  too,  was  haughty 
and  imperious.  I  recall  every  word  I  uttered,  and  I  know 
that  you  have  not  forgotten  them.  But  lot  there  be  equal 
and  final  justice  between  us :  forget  my  words,  if  you  can, 
and  forgive  me  !  " 

Philip  took  her  hand,  and  held  it  softly  in  his  own.  No 
power  on  earth  could  have  prevented  their  eyes  from  meet- 


176  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

ing.  Out  of  the  far-off  distance  of  all  dead  joys,  over  all 
abysses  of  fate,  the  sole  power  which  time  and  will  are  pow- 
erless to  tame,  took  swift  possession  of  their  natures. 
Philip's  eyes  were  darkened  and  softened  by  a  film  of  gath- 
ering tears :  he  cried  in  a  broken  voice : — 

"Yes,  pardon! — but  I  thought  pardon  might  be  peace. 
Forget  ?  Yes,  it  would  be  easy  to  forget  the  past,  if,  — O 
Emily,  we  have  never  been  parted  until  now  ! " 

She  had  withdrawn  her  hand,  and  covered  her  face.  He 
saw,  by  the  convulsive  tremor  of  her  frame,  that  she  was 
fiercely  suppressing  her  emotion.  In  another  moment  she 
looked  up,  pale,  cold,  and  almost  defiant. 

"  Why  should  you  say  more  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Mutual 
forgiveness  is  our  duty,  and  there  the  duty  ends.  Leave  me 
now ! " 

Philip  knew  that  he  had  betrayed  himself.  Not  daring 
to  speak  another  word  he  bowed  and  walked  rapidly  away. 
Mrs.  Hopeton  stood,  with  her  hand  pressed  upon  her 
bosom,  until  he  had  disappeared  among  the  farther  trees: 
then  she  sat  down,  and  let  her  withheld  tears  flow 
freely. 

Presently  the  merry  whoops  and  calls  of  children  met  hei 
ear.  She  gathered  together  the  fallen  flowers,  rose  and  took 
her  way  across  the  meadows  towards  a  little  stone  school- 
house,  at  the  foot  of  the  nearest  hill.  Lucy  Hender- 
son already  advanced  to  meet  her.  There  was  still  an 
hour  or  two  of  sunshine,  but  the  mellow,  languid  heat 
of  the  day  was  over,  and  the  breeze  winnowing  down 
the  valley  brought  with  it  the  smell  of  the  blossoming 
vernal  grass 

The  two  women  felt  themselves  drawn  towards  each  other, 
though  neither  had  as  yet  divined  the  source  of  their  affeo- 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  177 

donate  instinct.  Now,  looking  upon  Lucy's  pure,  gently 
firm,  and  reliaiit  face,  Mrs.  Hopeton,  for  the  second  or  third 
time  in  her  life,  yielded  to  a  sudden,  powerful  impulse,  and 
said :  "  Lucy,  I  foresee  that  I  shall  need  the  love  and  the 
trust  of  a  true  woman  :  where  shall  I  find  it  if  not  in  you  ?  '' 

"  If  mine  will  content  you,"  said  Lucy. 

"  O  my  dear  !  "  Mrs.  Hopeton  cried  ;  "  none  of  us  can 
stand  alone.  God  has  singular  trials  for  us,  sometimes,  and 
the  use  and  the  conquest  of  a  trouble  may  both  become  clear 
in  the  telling  of  it.  The  heart  can  wear  itself  out  with  ita 
own  bitterness.  You  see,  1  force  my  confidence  upon  you, 
but  I  know  you  are  strong  to  receive  it." 

"  At  least,"  Lucy  answered,  gravely,  "  I  have  no  claim 
to  strength  unless  I  am  willing  to  have  it  tested." 

"  Then  let  me  make  the  severest  test  at  once :  I  shall 
have  less  courage  if  I  delay.  Can  you  comprehend  the 
nature  of  a  woman's  trial,  when  her  heart  resists  her  duty  ?  " 

A  deep  blush  overspread  Lucy's  face,  but  she  forced  her- 
self to  meet  Mrs.  Hopeton's  gaze.  The  two  women  were 
silent  a  moment ;  then  the  latter  threw  her  arms  around 
Lucy's  neck  and  kissed  her. 

"  Let  us  walk  !  "  she  said.  "  "We  shall  both  find  the  words 
we  need." 

They  moved  away  over  the  fragrant,  shining  meadows. 
Down  the  valley,  at  the  foot  of  the  blue  cape  which  wooed 
their  eyes,  and  perhaps  suggested  to  their  hearts  that  mys- 
terious sense  of  hope  which  lies  in  landscape  distances, 
Elwood  Withers  was  directing  his  gang  of  workmen.  Over 
the  eastern  hill,  Joseph  Asten  stood  among  his  fields,  hardly 
recognizing  their  joyous  growth.  The  smoke  of  Philip's 
forge  rose  above  the  trees  to  the  northward.  So  many  dis- 
appointed hearts,  so  many  thwarted  lives !  What  strand 
8* 


178  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEOT). 

shall  be  twisted  out  of  the  broken  threads  of  these  desti- 
nies, thus  drawn  so  near  to  each  other  ?  What  new 
forces  —  fatal  or  beneficent — shall  be  developed  from  these 
elements  ? 

Mr.  Hopeton,  riding  homewards  along  the  highway,  said  to 
himself :  "  It's  a  pleasant  country,  but  what  slow,  humdrum 
lives  the  people  lead  1 " 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FKIKXI1.  179 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A    STORM. 

"  I  HAVK  a  plan,"  said  Julia,  a  week  or  two  later.  "  Can 
you  guess  it  ?  Xo,  I  think  not  ;  yet  you  might !  O,  how 
lovely  the  light  falls  on  your  hair  :  it  is  perfect  satin  !" 

She  had  one  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  ran  the  fingers 
of  the  other  lightly  through  his  brown  locks.  Her  face, 
sparkling  all  o\>r.  with  a  witching  fondness,  was  lifted 
toward  his.  It  was  the  climax  of  an  amiable  mood  which 
had  lasted  three  days. 

What  young  man  can  resist  a  playful,  appealing  face,  a 
soft,  caressing  touch  ?  Joseph  smiled  as  he  asked, — 

"  Is  it  that  I  shall  wear  my  hair  upon  my  shoulders,  or 
that  \ve  shall  sow  plaster  on  the  clover-field,  as  old  Bishop 
advised  you  the  other  day  ?  " 

"Now  you  are  making  fun  of  my  interest  in  farming;  but 
wait  another  year  !  I  am  trying  earnestly  to  understand  it,  but 
only  so  that  ornament — beauty—  what  was  the  word  in  those 
lines  you  read  last  night  ? — may  grow  out  of  use.  That's 
it — Beauty  out  of  Use !  I  know  I've  bored  you  a  little 
sometimes — just  a  little,  now,  confess  it ! — with  all  my  ques- 
tions ;  but  this  is  something  different.  Can't  you  think  of 
anything  that  would  make  our  home,  O  so  much  more  beau- 
tiful ?  " 

"  A  grove  of  palm-trees  at  the  top  of  the  garden  ?  Or  a 
lake  in  front,  with  marble  steps  leading  down  to  the  water  ?'' 

"  You  peryerse  Joseph  !     No  :  something  possible,  some* 


ISO  JOSEPH    AND    HT8   FKIENP. 

thing  practicable,  something  handsome,  something  pn.  Stable  1 
Or,  are  you  so  old-fashioned  that  you  think  we  must  drudge 
for  thirty  years,  and  only  take  our  pleasure  after  we  grow 
rheumatic  ?  " 

Joseph  looked  at  her  with  a  puzzled,  yet  cheerful  face. 

"  You  don't  understand  me  yet !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  And 
indeed,  indeed,  I  dread  to  tell  you,  for  one  reason :  you  have 
such  a  tender  regard  for  old  associations, — not  that  I'd  have 
it  otherwise,  if  I  could.  I  like  it :  I  trust  I  have  the  same 
feeling;  yet  a  little  sentiment  sometimes  interferes  practi- 
cally with  the  improvement  of  our  lives." 

Joseph's  curiosity  was  aroused.  "What  do  you  mean, 
Julia  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No  !  "  she  cried ;  "  I  will  not  tell  you  until  I  have  read 
part  of  pa's  letter,  which  came  this  afternoon.  Take  the 
arm-chair,  and  don't  interrupt  me." 

She  seated  herself  on  the  window-sill  and  opened  the  let 
ter.  "  I  saw,"  she  said,  "  how  uneasy  you  felt  when  the  call 
came  for  the  fourth  instalment  of  ten  per  cent,  on  the  Ama- 
ranth shares,  especially  after  I  had  so  much  difficulty  in  per- 
suading you  not  to  sell  the  half.  It  surprised  me,  although 
I  knew  that,  where  pa  is  concerned,  there's  a  good  reason  for 
everything.  So  I  wrote  to  him  the  other  day,  and  this  is 
what  he  says, — you  remember,  Kanuck  is  the  company's 
agent  on  the  spot :  — 

" '  Tell  Joseph  that  in  matters  of  finanea  there's  often  a 
wheel  within  a  wheel.  Blenkinsop,  of  tho  Chowder  Com- 
pany, managed  to  get  a  good  grab  of  our  shares  through  a 
third  party,  of  whom  we  had  not  the  slightest  suspicion.  I 
name  no  name  at  present,  from  motives  of  prudence.  We 
only  discovered  the  circumstance  after  the  third  party  left 
for  Europe.  Looking  upon  the  Chowder  as  a  riv.il,  it  is  oui 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FBEEND.  181 

desire,  of  course,  to  extract  this  entering  wedge  before  it  lias 
been  thrust  into  our  vitals,  and  we  can  only  accomplish  the 
end  by  still  keeping  secret  the  discovery  of  the  torpedoes  (an 
additional  expense,  I  might  remark),  and  nailing  for  fresh 
instalments  from  (M  the  stockholders.  Blenkinsop,  not  be- 
ing within  the  inside  ring, — and  no  possibility  of  his  getting 
in! — will  naturally  see  only  the  blue  of  disappointment 
where  we  see  the  rose  of  realized  expectations.  Already,  so 
Kanuck  writes  to  me,  negotiations  are  on  foot  which  will  re- 
lieve our  Amaranth  of  this  parasitic  growth,  and  a  few  weeks — 
days — hours,  in  fact,  may  enable  us  to  explode  and  triiimph ! 
I  was  offered,  yesterday,  by  one  of  our  shrewdest  operators, 
who  has  been  silently  watching  us,  ten  shares  of  the  Sinne- 
mahoning  Hematite  for  eight  of  ours.  Think  of  that, — the 
Sinnemahoning  Hematite !  No  better  stock  in  the  market,  if 
you  remember  the  quotations !  Explain  the  significance  of 
the  figures  to  your  husband,  and  let  him  see  that  he  has — 
biit  no,  I  will  restrain  myself  and  make  no  estimate.  I  will 
only  mention,  under  the  seal  of  the  profoundest  secrecy,  that 
the  number  of  shafts  now  sinking  (or  being  sunk)  will  give 
an  enormous  flowing  capacity  when  the  electric  spark  fires 
the  mine,  and  I  should  not  wonder  if  our  shares  then  soared 
high  over  the  pinnacles  of  all  previous  speculation  ! ' 

"  No,  nor  I !  "  Julia  exclaimed,  as  she  refolded  the  letter ; 
"  it  is  certain, — positively  certain  1  I  have  never  known 
the  Sinnemahoning  Hematite  to  be  less  than  147.  What  do 
you  say,  Joseph  ?  " 

"  I.  hope  it  may  be  true,"  he  answered.  "  I  can't  feel  sc 
certain,  while  an  accident — the  discovery  of  the  torpedo-plan^ 
for  instance — might  change  the  prospects  of  the  Amaranth. 
It  will  be  a  great  relief  when  the  time  comes  to  '  realize,'  at 
yo'ir  father  says." 


182  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FKIEND. 

**  You  onlj  feel  so  because  it  is  your  first  experience ;  but 
for  your  sake  I  will  consent  that  it  shall  be  the  last.  We 
shall  scarcely  need  any  more  than  this  will  bring  us ;  for,  as 
pa  says,  a  mere  competence  in  the  city  is  a  splendid  fortune 
in  the  country.  You  need  leisure  for  books  and  travel  and 
society,  and  you  shall  have  it.  Now,  let  us  make  a  place  for 
both  1  " 

Thereupon  she  showed  him  how  the  parlor  and  rear  bed- 
room might  be  thrown  into  one ;  where  there  were  alcoves 
for  bookcases  and  space  for  a  piano  ;  how  a  new  veranda 
might  be  added  to  the  western  end  of  the  house ;  how  the 
plastering  might  be  renewed,  a  showy  cornice  supplied,  and 
an  air  of  elegant  luxury  given  to  the  new  apartment.  Jo- 
seph saw  and  listened,  conscious  at  once  of  a  pang  at  chang- 
ing the  ancient  order  of  things,  and  a  temptation  to  behold 
a  more  refined  comfort  in  its  place.  He  only  asked  to  post- 
pone the  work  ;  but  Julia  pressed  him  so  closely,  with  such 
a  multitude  of  unanswerable  reasons,  that  he  finally  con- 
sented to  let  a  mechanic  look  at  the  house,  and  make  an  esti- 
mate of  the  expense. 

In  such  cases,  the  man  who  deliberates  is  lost. 

His  consent  once  reluctantly  exacted,  Julia  insisting  that 
she  would  take  the  whole  charge  of  directing  the  work,  a 
beginning  was  made  without  delay,  and  in  a  few  days  the 
ruin  was  so  complete  that  the  restoration  became  a  matter 
of  necessity. 

Julia  kept  her  word  only  too  faithfully.  With  a  lively, 
playful  manner  in  the  presence  of  the  workmen,  but  with  a 
cold,  inflexible  obstinacy  when  they  were  alone,  she  departed 
from  the  original  plan,  adding  showy  and  expensive  features, 
every  one  of  which,  Joseph  presently  saw,  was  devised  to 
surpass  the  changes  made  by  the  Hopetons  in  their  new  res 


JOSEPH    AN!t    HIS    KRIKMt.  183 

idence.  His  remonstrances  produced  no  effect,  and  lie  was 
precluded  from  a  practical  interference  bv  the  fear  of  the 
workmen  guessing  his  domestic  trouble.  Thus  the  days 
dragged  on,  and  the  breach  widened  without  an  effort  on 
either  side  to  heal  it. 

The  secret  of  her  temporary  fondness  gave  him  a  sense  of 
positive  disgust  when  it  arose  in  his  memory,  lie  now  sus- 
pected a  sellish  purpose  in  her  caresses,  and  sought  to  give 
her  no  chance  of  repeating  them,  but  in  the  company  of  oth- 
ers lie  was  forced  to  endure  a  tenderness  which,  he  was  sur- 
prised t;>  find,  still  half  deceived  him.  ;'s  it  wholly  deceived 
his  neighbors,  lie  saw.  too, — and  felt  himself  powerless  to 
change  the  impression, — that  Jiilia's  popularity  increased 
with  her  knowledge  of  the  people,  while  their  manner  to- 
wards him  was  a  shade  less  frank  and  cordial  than  formerly. 
He  knew  that  the  changes  in  his  home  were  so  much  need- 
less extravagance,  to  them ;  and  that  Julia's  oft-repeated 
phrase  (always  accompanied  with  a  loving  look),  "  Joseph  is 
making  the  old  place  so  beautiful  for  me  !  "  increased  their 
mistrust,  while  seeming  to  exalt  him  as  a  devoted  husband. 

It  is  not  likely  that  she  specially  intended  this  result ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  he  somewhat  exaggeiat/xi  its  char- 
acter. Her  object  was  simply  to  retain  her  growing  ascend- 
ency :  within  the  limits  where  her  peculiar  faculties  had 
been  exercised  she  was  nearly  perfect ;  but  she  was  indiffer- 
ent to  tracing  the  consequences  of  her  actions  beyond  those 
limits.  When  she  ascertained  Mr.  Chaffinch's  want  of  faith 
in  Joseph's  entire  piety,  she  became  more  regular  in  her  at- 
tendance  at  his  church,  not  so  much  to  prejudice  her  hus- 
band by  the  contrast,  as  to  avoid  the  suspicion  which  ho  had 
incurred.  To  Joseph,  however,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  de 
ception,  these  actions  seem  xl  either  hostile  or  heartless ;  he 


184  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

was  repelled  from  the  clearer  knowledge  of  a  nature  so  for 
eign  to  his  own.  So  utterly  foreign :  yet  how  near  beyond 
all  others  it  had  once  seemed ! 

It  was  not  a  jealousy  of  the  authority  she  assumed  which 
turned  his  heart  from  her :  it  was  the  revelation  of  a  shal- 
lowness  and  selfishness  not  at  all  rare  in  the  class  from 
which  she  came,  but  which  his  pure,  guarded  youth  had 
never  permitted  him  to  suspect  in  any  human  being.  A 
man  familiar  with  men  and  women,  if  he  had  been  caught 
in  such  toils,  would  have  soon  discovered  some  manner 
of  controlling  her  nature,  for  the  very  shrewdest  and  fals- 
est have  their  vulnerable  side.  It  gave  Joseph,  however, 
so  much  keen  spiritual  pain  to  encounter  her  in  her 
true  character,  that  such  a  course  was  simply  impos- 
sible. 

Meanwhile  the  days  went  by ;  the  expense  of  labor  and 
material  had  already  doubled  the  estimates  made  by  the 
mechanics ;  bills  were  presented  for  payment,  and  nothing 
was  heard  from  the  Amaranth.  Money  was  a  necessity, 
and  there  was  no  alternative  but  to  obtain  a  temporary  loan 
at  a  county  town,  the  centre  of  transactions  for  all  the  debt- 
ors and  creditors  of  the  neighboring  country.  It  was  a  new 
and  disagreeable  experience  for  Joseph  to  appear  in  the 
character  of  a  borrower,  and  he  adopted  it  most  reluctantly ; 
yet  the  reality  was  a  greater  trial  than  he  had  suspected. 
He  found  that  the  most  preposterous  stories  of  his  extrava- 
gance were  afloat.  He  was  transforming  his  house  into  a 
castle :  he  had  made,  lost,  and  made  again  a  large  fortune 
in  petroleum ;  he  had  married  a  wealthy  wife  and  squander- 
ed her  money ;  he  drove  out  in  a  carriage  with  six  white 
horses;  he  was  becoming  irregular  in  his  habits  and  hereti- 
oal  in  his  religious  views ;  in  short,  such  marvellous  power* 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  185 

of  invention  had  been  exercised  that  the  Arab  story  -tellers 
were  surpassed  by  the  members  of  that  quiet,  sluggish  com 
munity. 

It  required  all  his  self-control  to  meet  the  suspicions  of 
the  money-agents,  and  convince  them  of  the  true  state  of 
his  circumstances.  The  loan  was  obtained,  but  after  such  a 
wear  and  tear  of  flesh  and  spirit  as  made  it  seem  a  double 
burden. 

When  he  reached  home,  in  the  afternoon,  Julia  instantly 
saw,  by  his  face,  that  all  had  not  gone  right.  A  slight  ef- 
fort, however,  enabled  her  to  say  carelessly  and  cheerfully, — 

"  Have  you  brought  me  my  supplies,  dear  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  curtly. 

"  Here  is  a  letter  from  pa,"  she  then  said.  "  I  opened  it, 
because  I  knew  what  the  subject  must  be.  But  if  you're 
tired,  pray  don't  read  it  now,  for  then  you  may  be  impatient 
There's  a  little  more  delay." 

u  Then  I'll  not  delay  to  know  it,"  he  said,  taking  the  let- 
ter from  her  hand.  A  printed  slip,  calling  upon  the  stock- 
holders of  the  Amaranth  to  pay  a  fifth  instalment,  fell  out 
of  the  envelope.  Accompanying  it  there  was  a  hasty  note 
from  B.  Blessing :  "  Don't  be  alarmed,  my  dear  son-in-law  ! 
Probably  a  mere  form.  Blenkinsop  still  holds  on,  but  we 
think  this  will  bring  him  at  once.  If  it  don't,  we  shall  very 
likely  have  to  go  on  with  him,  even  if  it  obliges  us  to  unite 
the  Amaranth  and  the  Chowder.  In  any  case,  we  shall  ford 
or  bridge  this  little  Rubicon  within  a  fortnight.  Have  the 
money  ready,  if  convenient,  but  do  not  forward  unless  I 
give  the  word.  We  hear,  through  third  parties,  that  Clem- 
entina (who  is  now  at  Long  Branch)  receives  much  atteu 
tion  from  Mr.  Spelter,  a  man  of  immense  wealth,  but,  I  r» 
gret  to  say,  no  refinement." 


186  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

Joseph  smiled  grimly  when  he  finished  the  note.  "  la 
there  never  to  be  an  end  of  humbug  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  There,  now  !  "  cried  Julia  ;  "  I  knew  you'd  be  impa- 
tient. You  are  so  unaccustomed  to  great  operations. 
Why,  the  Muchacho  Land  Grant — I  remember  it,  because 
pa  sold  out  just  at  the  wrong  time — hung  on  for  seven 
years !  " 

"  D —  curse  the  Muchacho  Land  Grant,  and  the  Ama 
ninth  too  !  " 

"  Are  n't  you  ashamed  !  "  exclaimed  Julia,  taking  on  a 
playful  air  of  offence  ;  "  but  you're  tired  and  hungry,  poor 
fellow  ! "  Therewith  she  put  her  hands  on  his  shoulders, 
and  raised  herself  011  tiptoe  to  kiss  him. 

Joseph,  unable  to  control  his  sudden  instinct,  swiftly 
turned  away  his  head. 

"  O  you  wicked  husband,  you  deserve  to  be  punished  !  " 
she  cried,  giving  him  what  was  meant  to  be  a  light  tap  on 
the  cheek. 

It  was  a  light  tap,  certainly ;  but  perhaps  a  little  of  the 
annoyance  which  she  banished  from  her  face  had  lodged, 
unconsciously,  in  her  fingers.  They  left  just  sting  enough 
to  rouse  Joseph's  heated  blood.  He  started  back  a  step, 
and  looked  at  her  with  flaming  eyes. 

"  No  more  of  that,  Julia  !  I  know,  now,  how  much  your 
arts  are  worth.  I  am  getting  a  vile  name  in  the  neighbor- 
hood,— losing  my  property, — losing  my  own  self-respect, — 
because  I  have  allowed  you  to  lead  me  !  Will  you  be  con- 
tent with  what  you  have  done,  or  must  you  go  on  until  my 
ruin  is  complete  ?  " 

Before  he  had  finished  speaking  she  had  taken  rapid 
counsel  with  herself,  a.nd  decided.  "  Oh,  oh  !  such  words 
to  me  !  "  she  groaned,  hiding  her  face  between  her  hands 


JOSEPH    AND    ni8    FRIEND.  187 

'  I  never  thought  you  could  be  so  cruel !  I  had  such  pleas- 
are  in  seeing  you  rich  and  free,  in  trying  to  make  your 
home  beautiful ;  and  now  this  little  delay,  which  no  busi- 
ness man  would  think  anything  of,  seems  to  change  your 
very  nature  !  But  I  will  not  think  it's  your  true  self : 
something  has  worried  you  to-day, — you  have  heard  some 
foolish  story — " 

"  It  is  not  the  worry  of  to-day,"  he  interrupted,  in  haste 
to  state  his  whole  grievance,  before  his  weak  heart  had 
time  to  soften  again, — "  it  is  the  worry  of  months  past !  It 
is  because  I  thought  you  true  and  kind-hearted,  and  I  find 
you  selfish  and  hypocritical !  It  is  very  well  to  lead  me 
into  serious  expenses,  while  so  much  is  at  stake,  and  now 
likely  to  be  lost, — it  is  very  well  to  make  my  home  beauti- 
ful, especially  when  you  can  outshine  Mrs.  Hopeton !  It  is 
easy  to  adapt  yourself  to  the  neighbors,  and  keep  on  the 
right  side  of  them,  no  matter  how  much  your  husband's 
character  may  suffer  in  the  process  !  " 

"  That  will  do  !  "  said  Julia,  suddenly  becoming  rigid. 
She  lifted  her  head,  and  apparently  wiped  the  tears  from 
her  eyes.  "  A  little  more  and  it  would  be  too  much  for 
even  me  !  What  do  I  care  for  '  the  neighbors  '  ?  persons 
whose  ideas  and  tastes  and  habits  of  life  are  so  different 
from  mine  ?  I  have  endeavored  to  be  friendly  with  them 
for  your  sake  :  I  have  taken  special  pains  to  accommodate 
myself  to  their  notions,  just  because  I  intended  they  should 
justify  you  in  choosing  me  !  I  believed — for  you  told  me 
BO — that  there  was  no  calculation  in  love,  that  money  was 
dross  in  comparison ;  and  how  could  I  imagine  that  you 
would  so  soon  put  up  a  balance  and  begin  to  weigh  the 
two  ?  Am  I  your  wife  or  your  slave  ?  Have  I  an  equal 
share  in  what  is  "ours,  or  an1  1  here  merely  to  increase  it  ? 


188  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FR1KND. 

If  there  is  to  be  a  question  of  dollars  and  cents  between  tu^ 
pray  have  my  allowance  fixed,  so  that  I  may  not  overstep 
it,  and  may  save  myself  from  such  reproaches !  I  knew 
you  would  be  disappointed  in  pa's  letter :  I  have  been  anx- 
ious and  uneasy  since  it  came,  through  my  sympathy  with 
you,  and  was  ready  to  make  any  sacrifice  that  might  relieve 
your  mind  ;  and  now  you  seem  to  be  full  of  unkindness  and 
injustice  !  What  shall  I  do,  O  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

She  threw  herself  upon  a  sofa,  weeping  hysterically. 

"  Julia !  "  he  cried,  both  shocked  and  startled  by  her 
words,  "  you  purposely  misunderstand  me.  Think  how  con- 
stantly I  have  yielded  to  you,  against  my  own  better  judg- 
ment !  When  have  you  considered  my  wishes  ?  " 

"  When  ?  "  she  repeated :  then,  addressing  the  cushion 
with  a  hopeless,  melancholy  air,  "  he  asks,  when  !  How 
could  I  misunderstand  you  ?  your  words  were  as  plain  as 
daggers.  If  you  were  not  aware  how  sharp  they  were,  call 
them  back  to  your  mind  when  these  mad,  unjust  suspicions 
have  left  you !  I  trusted  you  so  perfectly,  I  was  looking 
forward  to  such  a  happy  future,  and  now — now,  all  seems  so 
dark !  It  is  like  a  flash  of  lightning  :  I  am  weak  and  giddy : 
leave  me, — I  can  bear  no  more  !  " 

She  covered  her  face,  and  sobbed  wretchedly. 

"  I  am  satisfied  that  you  are  not  as  ignorant  as  you  pro- 
fess to  be,"  was  all  Joseph  could  say,  as  he  obeyed  her  com- 
mand, and  left  the  room.  He  was  vanquished,  he  knew, 
and  a  little  confused  by  his  wife's  unexpected  way  of  taking 
his  charges  in  flank  instead  of  meeting  them  in  front,  as  a 
man  would  have  done.  Could  she  be  sincere  ?  he  asked 
himself.  Was  she  really. so  ignorant  of  herself,  as  to  believe 
all  that  she  had  uttered  ?  There  seemed  to  be  not  the 
shadow  of  hypocrisy  in  her  grief  and  indignation.  Hei 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  189 

tears  were  real :  then  why  not  her  smiles  and  caresses  ?  Ei- 
ther she  was  horribly,  incredibly  false, — worse  than  he 
dared  dream  her  to  be, — or  so  fatally  unconscious  of  her  na- 
ture that  nothing  short  of  a  miracle  could  ever  enlighten 
her.  One  thing  only  was  certain  :  there  was  now  no  con- 
fidence between  them,  and  there  might  never  be  again. 

He  walked  slowly  forth  from  the  house,  seeing  nothing, 
and  unconscious  whither  his  feet  were  leading  him. 


190  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FKIEND. 


CHAPTER  XVHL 

ON   THE    RAILKOAD   TRACK. 

STILL  walking,  with  bent  head,  and  a  brain  which  vaiui? 
strove  to  work  its  way  to  clearness  through  the  perplexities 
of  his  heart,  Joseph  went  on.  When,  wearied  at  last, 
though  not  consciously  calmer,  he  paused  and  looked  about 
him,  it  was  like  waking  from  a  dream.  Some  instinct  had 
guided  him  on  the  way  to  Philip's  forge  :  th&  old  road  had 
been  moved  to  accommodate  the  new  branch  railway,  and  a 
rapid  ring  of  hammers  came  up  from  the  embankment  below. 
It  was  near  the  point  of  the  hill  where  Lucy's  schoolhouse 
stood,  and  even  as  he  looked  she  came,  accompanied  by  her 
scholars,  to  watch  the  operation  of  laying  the  track.  El- 
wood  Withers,  hale,  sunburnt,  full  of  lusty  life,  walked  along 
the  sleepers  directing  the  workmen. 

"  He  was  right, — only  too  right !  "  muttered  Joseph  to 
himself.  "  Why  could  I  not  see  with  his  eyes  ?  *  It's  the 
bringing  up,'  he  would  say ;  but  that  is  not  all.  I  have 
been  an  innocent,  confiding  boy,  and  thought  that  years  and 
acres  had  made  me  a  man.  O,  sJie  understood  me — she  un- 
derstands me  now ;  but  in  spite  of  her,  God  helping  me,  I 
shall  yet  be  a  man." 

Elwood  ran  down  the  steep  side  of  the  embankment, 
greeted  Lucy,  and  helped  her  to  the  top,  the  children  follow- 
ing with  whoops  and  cries. 

"  Would  it  have  been  different,"  Joseph  further  solilo- 
quized, "if  Lucy  and  I  had  loved  and  married?  It  is 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND.  191 

hardly  treating  Elwood  fairly   to  suppose  such  a  thing,  yet 
— a  year  ago — I  might  have  loved  her.     It  is  better  as  it  is 
I  should  have  stepped  upon  a  true  man's  heart.     Have  thej 
drawn  nearer  ?  and  if  so,  does  he,  with  his  sturdier  nature, 
his  surer  knowledge,  find  no  flaw  in  her  perfections  ?  " 

A  morbid  curiosity  zo  watch  the  two  suddenly  came  upon 
him.  He  clambered  over  the  fence,  crossed  the  narrow  strip 
of  meadow,  and  mounted  the  embankment.  El  wood's  back 
was  towards  him,  and  he  was  just  saying  :  "It  all  comes  of 
talking  an  interest  in  what  your're  doing.  The  practical 
part  is  easy  enough,  when  you  once  have  the  principles.  I 
can  manage  the  theodolite  already,  but  I  need  a  little  show- 
ing when  I  come  to  the  calculations.  Somehow,  I  never 
cared  much  about  study  before,  but  here  it's  all  applied  as 
soon  as  you've  learned  it,  and  that  fixes  it,  like,  in  your  head." 

Lucy  was  listening  with  an  earnest,  friendly  interest  on 
her  face.  She  scarcely  saw  Joseph  until  he  stood  before  her. 
After  the  first  slight  surprise,  her  manner  towards  him  was 
quiet  and  composed :  Elwood's  eyes  were  bright,  and  there 
was  a  fresh  intelligence  in  his  appearance.  The  habit  of 
command  had  already  given  him  a  certain  dignity. 

"  How  can  ./get  knowledge  which  may  be  applied  as  soon 
as  learned  ?  "  Joseph  asked,  endeavoring  to  assume  the  man- 
ner furthest  from  his  feelings.  "  I'm  still  at  the  foot  of  the 
class,  Lucy,"  he  added,  turning  to  her. 

"  How?  "  Elwood  replied.  "  I  should  say  by  going  around 
the  world  alone.  That  would  be  about  the  same  for  you  as 
what  these  ten  miles  I'm  overseeing  are  to  me.  A  little 
goes  a  great  way  with  me,  for  I  can  only  pick  up  one  thing 
at  a  time." 

"  What  kind  of  knowledge  are  you  looking  for,  Joseph  ?  " 
Lucy  gravely  asked. 


L92  JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FRIEND. 

"  Of  myself,"  said  he,  and  his  face  grew  dark. 

"  That's  a  true  word  !  "  Elwood  involuntarily  exclaimed. 
He  then  caught  Lucy's  eye,  and  awkwardly  added :  "  It's 
about  what  we  all  want,  I  take  it." 

Joseph  recovered  himself  in  a  moment,  and  proposed  look- 
ing over  the  work.  They  walked  slowly  along  the  embank- 
ment, listening  to  Elwood's  account  of  what  had  been  done 
and  what  was  yet  to  do,  when  the  Hopeton  carriage  came 
up  the  highway,  near  at  hand.  Mrs.  Hopeton  sat  in  it 
alone. 

"  I  was  looking  for  you,  Lucy,"  she  called.  "  If  you  are 
going  towards  the  cutting,  I  will  join  you  there." 

She  sent  the  coachman  home  with  the  carriage,  and  walked 
vith  them  on  the  track.  Joseph  felt  her  presence  as  a  re- 
ief,  but  Elwood  confessed  to  himself  that  he  was  a  little  dis- 
turbed by  the  steady  glance  of  her  dark  eyes.  He  had 
already  overcome  his  regret  at  the  interruption  of  his  rare 
and  welcome  chance  of  talking  with  Lucy,  but  then  Joseph 
knew  his  heart,  while  this  stately  lady  looked  as  if  she  were 
capable  of  detecting  what  she  had  no  right  to  know.  Never- 
theless, she  was  Lucy's  friend,  and  that  fact  had  great  weight 
with  Elwood. 

"  It's  rather  a  pity  to  cut  into  the  hills  and  bank  up  the 
meadows  in  this  way,  isn't  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  And  to  disturb  my  school  with  so  much  hammering," 
Lucy  rejoined;  "when  the  trains  come  I  must  retreat." 

"  None  too  soon,"  said  Mrs.  Hopeton.  "  You  are  not 
strong,  Lucy,  and  the  care  of  a  school  is  too  much  for  you." 

Elwood  thanked  her  with  a  look,  before  he  knew  what  he 
was  about. 

'*  After  all,"  said  Joseph,  "  why  shouldn't  nature  be  cut 
up  ?  I  sxippose  everything  was  given  up  to  us  to  use,  and 


JOSEPH   AND   HI8   FRIEND.  193 

the  more  profit  the  better  the  use,  seems  to  be  the  rule  of 
the  world.  '  Beauty  grows  out  of  Use,'  you  know." 

His  tone  was  sharp  and  cynical,  and  grated  unpleasantly 
on  Lucy's  sensitive  ear. 

"  I  believe  it  is  a  rule  in  art,"  said  Mrs.  Hopeton,  "  that 
mere  ornament,  for  ornament's  sake,  is  not  allowed.  It 
must  always  seem  to  answer  some  purpose,  to  have  a  neces- 
sity for  its  existence.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  what  is  ne- 
cessary should  be  beautiful,  if  possible." 

"  A  loaf  of  bread,  for  instance,"  suggested  Elwood. 

They  all  laughed  at  this  illustration,  and  the  conversation 
took  a  lighter  turn.  By  this  time  they  had  entered  the  nar- 
rower part  of  the  valley,  and  on  passing  around  a  sharp 
curve  of  the  track  found  themselves  face  to  face  with  Philip 
and  Madeline  Held. 

If  Mrs.  Hopeton's  heart  beat  more  rapidly  at  the  unex- 
pected meeting,  she  preserved  her  cold,  composed  bearing. 
Madeline,  bright  and  joyous,  was  the  unconscious  agent  of 
unconstraint,  in  whose  presence  each  of  the  others  felt  im- 
mediately free. 

"  Two  inspecting  committees  at  once  !  "  cried  Philip.  "  It 
is  well  for  you,  Withers,  that  you  didn't  locate  the  line.  My 
sister  and  I  have  already  found  several  unnecessary  curves 
and  culverts." 

"  And  we  have  found  a  great  deal  of  use  and  no  beauty," 
Lucy  answered. 

"  Beauty  !  "  exclaimed  Madeline.  "  What  is  more  beau- 
tiful than  to  see  one's  groceries  delivered  at  one's  very  door? 
Oi-  to  have  the  opera  and  the  picture-gallery  brought  within  two 
hours'  distance  ?  How  far  are  we  from  a  lemon,  Philip  ?  " 

"  You  were  a  lemon,  Mad,  in  your  vegetable,  pre-human 
state  ;  and  you  are  still  acid  and  agreeable." 

9 


194  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  Sweets  to  the  sweet !  "  she  gayly  cried.  "  And  what, 
pray,  was  Miss  Henderson  ?  " 

"  Don't  spare  me,  Mr.  Held,"  said  Lucy,  as  he  looked  at 
her  with  a  little  hesitation. 

"  An  apple." 

«  And  Mrs.  Hopeton  ?  " 

"  A  date-palm,"  said  Philip,  fixing  his  eyes  upon  her  face. 

She  did  not  look  up,  but  an  expression  which  he  could 
not  interpret  just  touched  her  lips  and  faded. 

"  Now,  it's  your  turn,  Miss  Held,"  Elwood  remarked  : 
".  what  were  we  men  ?  " 

"  O,  Philip  a  prickly  pear,  of  course  ;  and  you,  well,  some 
kind  of  a  nut ;  and  Mr.  Asten — " 

"  A  cabbage,"  said  Joseph. 

"  What  vanity  !  Do  you  imagine  that  you  are  all  head, 
— or  that  your  heart  is  in  your  head  ?  Or  that  you  keep  the 
morning  dew  longer  than  the  rest  of  us  ?  " 

"  It  might  well  be,"  Joseph  answered ;  and  Madeline  felt 
her  arm  gently  pinched  by  Philip,  from  behind.  Fhe  had 
tact  enough  not  to  lower  her  pitch  of  gayety  too  si  ddenly, 
but  her  manner  towards  Joseph  became  grave  and  gentle. 
Mrs.  Hopeton  said  but  little  :  she  looked  upon  the  circling 
hills,  as  if  studying  their  summer  beauty,  while  the  one  de- 
sire in  her  heart  was  to  be  away  from  the  spot, — a\»  ay  from 
Philip's  haunting  eyes. 

After  a  little  while,  Philip  seemed  to  be  conscious  of  her 
feeling.  He  left  his  place  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  track, 
took  Joseph's  arm  and  led  him  a  little  aside  from  the  group. 

"  Philip,  I  want  you  !  "  Joseph  whispered ;  "  br.t  AC,  not 
quite  yet.  There  is  no  need  of  coming  to  you  in  a  vtew.  of 
confusion.  In  a  day  or  two  more  I  shall  have  settliyi  a  lit 
tie." 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  195 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Philip  :  "  there  is  no  opiate  lika 
time,  be  there  never  so  little  of  it.  I  felt  the  fever  of  your 
head  in  your  hand.  Don't  come  to  me,  until  you  feel  that 
it  is  the  one  thing  which  must  be  done  1  I  think  you  know 
why  I  say  so." 

"  I  do  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed.  "  I  am  just  now  more  of  an 
ostrich  than  anything  else ;  I  should  like  to  stick  my  head 
in  the  sand,  and  imagine  myself  invisible.  But — Philip- - 
here  are  six  of  us  togethei-.  One  other,  I  know,  has  a  se- 
cret wound,  perhaps  two  others  :  is  it  always  so  in  life  ?  I 
think  I  am  selfish  enough  to  be  glad  to  know  that  I  am  not 
specially  picked  out  for  punishment." 

Philip  could  not  help  smiling.  "  Upon  my  soul,"  he  said, 
"  I  believe  Madeline  is  the  only  one  of  the  six  who  is  not 
busy  with  other  thoughts  than  those  we  all  seem  to  utter. 
Specially  picked  out  ?  There  is  no  such  thing  as  special  pick- 
ing out,  in  this  world  !  Joseph,  it  may  seem  hard  and  school 
master-like  in  me  again  to  say  '  wait ! '  yet  that  is  the  only 
word  I  can  say." 

"  Good  evening,  all !  "  cried  Elwood.  "  I  must  go  down 
to  my  men ;  but  I'd  be  glad  of  such  an  inspection  as  this,  & 
good  deal  oftener." 

"  I'll  go  that  far  with  you,"  said  Joseph. 

Mrs.  Hopeton  took  Lucy's  arm  with  a  sudden,  nervoua 
movement.  "  If  you  are  not  too  tired,  let  us  walk  over  the 
hill,"  she  said  ;  "  I  want  to  find  the  right  point  of  view  for 
sketching  our  house." 

The  company  dissolved.  Philip,  as  he  walked  up  the 
track  with  his  sister,  said  to  himself:  "  Surely  she  was 
afraid  of  me.  And  what  does  her  fear  indicate  ?  What,  if 
not  that  the  love  she  once  bore  for  me  still  lives  in  her 
heart,  in  spite  of  time  and  separated  fates  ?  I  should  not, 


196  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 


dare  not  t.hinfe  of  her  ;  I  shall  never  again  speak  a  word  tc 
her  which  her  husband  might  not  hear;  but  I  cannot  teai 
from  me  the  dream  of  what  she  might  be,  the  knowledge  of 
what  she  is,  false,  hopeless,  fatal,  as  it  all  may  be  !  " 

"  Elwood,"  said  Joseph,  when  they  had  walked  a  little 
distance  in  silence,  "  do  you  remember  the  night  you  spent 
with  me,  a  year  ago  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  likely  to  forget  it." 

"  Let  me  ask  you  one  question,  then.  Have  you  come 
nearer  to  Lucy  Henderson  ?  " 

"  If  no  further  off  means  nearer,  and  it  almost  seems  so 
in  my  case,  —  yes  !  " 

"  And  you  see  no  difference  in  her,  —  no  new  features  of 
character,  which  you  did  not  guess,  at  first  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  do  !  "  Elwood  emphatically  answered.  "  To 
me  she  grows  less  and  less  like  any  other  woman,  —  so  right, 
so  straightforward,  so  honest  in  all  her  ways  and  thoughts  ! 
[f  I  am  ever  tempted  to  do  anything  —  well,  not  exactly 
mean,  you  know,  but  such  as  a  man  might  as  well  leave  un- 
done, I  have  only  to  say  to  myself  :  '  If  you're  not  thoroughly 
good,  my  boy,  you'll  lose  her  !  '  and  that  does  the  business, 
right  away.  Why,  Joseph,  I'm  proud  of  myself,  that  I  mean 
to  deserve  her  !  " 

"  Ah  !  "  A  sigh,  almost  a  groan,  came  from  Joseph's  lips. 
"  What  will  you  think  of  me  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  was  about  to 
repeat  your  own  words,  —  to  warn  you  to  be  cautious,  and 
take  time,  and  test  your  feelings,  and  not  to  be  too  sure  of 
her  perfection  !  What  can  a  young  man  know  about  wo- 
men ?  He  can  only  discover  the  truth  after  marriage,  and 
then  —  they  are  indifferent  how  it  affects  him  —  their  fortunes 
are  made  1  " 

"I  know,"  answered    Elwood,   turning   his   head   awat 


JOSEPH    AND   HT8   FRIEND.  197 

slightly ;  "  but  there's  a  difference  between  the  women  yoti 
seek,  and  work  to  get,  and  the  women  who  seek,  and  work 
to  get  you." 

"  I  understand  you." 

"  Forgive  me  for  saying  it !  "  El  wood  cried,  instantly  re- 
penting his  words.  "I  couldn't  help  seeing  and  feeling 
what  you  know  now.  But  what  man — leastways,  what 
fricud — could  ha'  said  it  to  you  with  any  chance  of  being 
believed  ?  You  were  like  a  man  alone  in  a  boat  above  a 
waterfall;  only  you  could  bring  yourself  to  shore.  If  I 
stood  on  the  bank  and  called,  and  you  didn't  believe  me, 
what  then  ?  The  Lord  knows,  I'd  give  this  right  arm, 
strong  as  it  is,  to  put  you  back  where  you  were  a  year  ago." 

"  I've  been  longing  for  frankness,  and  I  ought  to  bear  it 
better,"  said  Joseph.  "  Put  the  whole  subject  out  of  your 
thoughts,  and  come  and  see  me  as  of  old.  It  is  quite  time  I 
should  learn  to  manage  my  own  life." 

He  grasped  Elwood's  hand  convulsively,  sprang  down  the 
embankment,  and  took  to  the  highway.  El  wood  looked 
after  him  a  minute,  then  slowly  shook  his  head  and  walked 
onward  towards  the  men. 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Hopeton  and  Lucy  had  climbed  the  hill, 
and  found  themselves  on  the  brow  of  a  rolling  upland,  which 
fell  on  the  other  side  towards  the  old  Calvert  place.  The 
day  was  hot.  Mrs.  Hopeton's  knees  trembled  under  her, 
and  she  sauk  on  the  soft  grass  at  the  foot  of  a  tree.  Lucy 
took  a  seat  beside  her. 

"  You  know  so  much  of  my  trouble,"  said  the  former, 
when  the  coolness  and  rest  had  soothed  her,  u  and  I 
trust  you  so  perfectly,  that  I  can  tell  you  all,  Lucy.  Can 
you  guess  the  man  whom  I  loved,  but  must  never  lov«/ 
again?" 


198  JOSEPH   AMD   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  I  have  sometimes  thought  — "  but  here  Lucy  hesi 
tated. 

"  Speak  the  name  in  your  mind,  or,  let  me  say  '  Philip 
Held '  for  you  !  Lucy,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  he  loves  me  still  • 
he  told  me  so,  just  now,  where  we  were  all  together  below 
there !  " 

Lucy  turned  with  a  start,  and  gazed  wonderingly  upon 
her  friend's  face. 

"  Why  does  he  continue  telling  me  what  1  must  not 
hear  ?  with  his  eyes,  Lucy  !  in  the  tones  of  his  voice,  in 
common  words  which  I  am  forced  to  interpret  by  his  mean- 
ing !  I  had  learned  to  bear  my  inevitable  fate,  for  it  is  not  an 
unhappy  one ;  I  can  bear  even  his  presence,  if  he  were 
generous  enough  to  close  his  heart  as  I  do, — either  that,  or 
to  avoid  me ;  for  I  now  dread  to  meet  him  again." 

"  Is  it  not,"  Lucy  asked,  "  because  the  trial  is  new,  and 
takes  you  by  surprise  and  unprepared  ?  May  you  not  be 
fearing  more  than  Mr.  Held  has  expressed,  or,  at  least,  in- 
tended ?  " 

"  The  speech  that  kills,  or  makes  alive,  needs  no  words. 
What  I  mean  is,  there  is  no  resistance  in  his  face.  I  blush 
for  myself,  I  am  indignant  at  my  own  pitiful  weakness,  but 
something  in  his  look  to-day  made  me  forget  everything 
that  has  passed  since  we  were  parted.  While  it  lasted,  I 
was  under  a  spell, —  a  spell  which  it  humiliates  me  to  re- 
member. Your  voices  sounded  faint  and  far  off;  all  that  I 
have,  and  hold,  seemed  to  be  slipping  from  me.  It  was  only 
for  a  moment,  but,  Lucy,  it  frightened  me.  My  will  is 
rtrong,  and  I  think  I  can  depend  upon  it ;  yet  what  if  some 
influence  beyond  niy  control  were  to  paralyze  it  ?  " 

"  Then  you  must  try  to  win  the  help  of  a  higher  will ;  our 
BO uls  always  win  something  of  that  which  they  wrestle  and 


JOSEPH    AND   ins    FRIEND.  199 

rtn;ggle  to  reach.  Dear  Mrs.  Hopeton,  have  you  nevei 
thought  that  we  are  still  as  children  who  cannot  have  all 
they  cry  for?  Now  that  you  know  what  you  fear,  do  not 
dread  to  hold  it  before  your  mind  and  examine  what  it  is : 
at  least,  I  think  that  would  be  my  instinct, — to  face  a  danger 
at  once  when  I  found  I  could  not  escape  it." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  are  right,  Lucy,"  said  Mrs.  Hope- 
ton  ;  but  her  tone  was  sad,  as  if  she  acquiesced  without 
clearly  believing. 

"  It  seems  very  hard,"  Lucy  continued,  "  when  we  can- 
not have  the  one  love  of  all  others  that  we  need,  harder 
still  when  we  must  put  it  forcibly  from  our  hearts.  But  1 
have  always  felt  that,  when  we  can  bring  ourselves  to  re- 
nounce cheerfully,  a  blessing  will  follow.  I  do  not  kno\v 
how,  but  I  must  believe  it.  Might  it  not  come  at  last 
through  the  love  that  we  have,  though  it  now  seems  im- 
perfect ?  " 

Mrs.  Hopeton  lifted  her  head  from  her  knees,  and  sat 
erect.  "  Lucy,"  she  said,  "  I  do  not  believe  you  are  a 
woman  who  would  ask  another  to  bear  what  is  beyond  your 
own  strength.  Shall  I  put  you  to  the  test  ?  " 

Lucy,  though  her  face  became  visibly  paler,  replied  :  "  I 
did  not  mean  to  compare  my  burden  with  yours  ;  but  weigh 
me,  if  you  wish.  If  I  am  found  wanting,  you  will  show  me 
wherein." 

"  Your  one  love  above  all  others  is  lost  to  you.  Have 
yoxi  conquered  the  desire  for  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  have.  If  some  soreness  remains,  I  try  to  be- 
lieve that  it  is  the  want  of  the  love  which  I  know  to  ba 
possible,  not  that  of  the — the  person." 

"  Then  could  you  be  happy  with  what  you  call  an  imper- 
fect love?" 


200  JOSEPH   AND  HI8  FRIEND. 

Lucy  blushed  a  little,  in  spite  of  herself.  "I  aui  still 
free,"  she  answered,  "  and  not  obliged  to  accept  it.  If  I 
were  bound,  I  hope  I  should  not  neglect  my  duty." 

"  What  if  another's  happiness  depended  on  your  accept- 
ing it  ?  Lucy,  my  eyes  have  been  made  keen  by  what  I 
have  felt.  I  saw  to-day  that  a  man's  heart  follows  you, 
and  I  guess  that  you  know  it.  Here  is  no  imperfect  love  on 
his  part :  were  you  his  wife,  could  you  learn  to  give  him  so 
much  that  your  life  might  become  peaceful  and  satisfied  ?  " 

"  You  do,  indeed,  test  me  ! "  Lucy  murmured.  "  How 
can  I  know  ?  What  answer  can  I  make  ?  I  have  shrunk 
from  thinking  of  that,  and  I  cannot  feel  that  my  duty  lies 
there.  Yet,  if  it  were  so,  if  I  were  already  bound,  irrevoca- 
bly, surely  all  my  present  faith  must  be  false  if  happiness  in 
some  form  did  not  come  at  last  1  " 

"  I  believe  it  would,  to  you  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Hopeton.  "  Why 
not  to  me  ?  Do  you  think  I  have  ever  looked  for  love  in 
my  husband  ?  It  seems,  now,  that  I  have  been  content  tc 
know  that  he  was  proud  of  me.  If  I  seek,  perhaps  I  may 
find  more  than  I  have  dreamed  of  ;  and  if  I  find,  — if  indeed 
and  truly  I  find,  — I  shall  never  more  lack  self-possessior 
and  will !  " 

She  rose  to  her  full  height,  and  a  flush  came  over  the 
pallor  of  her  cheeks.  "  Yes,"  she  continued,  "  rather  than 
feel  again  the  humiliation  of  to-day,  I  will  trample  all  my 
nature  down  to  the  level  of  an  imperfect  love  !  " 

"  Better,"  said  Lucy,  rising  also,  —  "  better  to  bend  only 
for  a  while  to  the  imperfect,  that  you  may  warm  and  purify 
and  elevate  it,  until  it  shall  take  the  place  of  the  perfect  in 
your  heart." 

The  two  women  kissed  each  other,  and  there  were  tears  oc 
the  cheeks  of  both. 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FKIEND.  201 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE  "WHARF-RAT." 

ON  his  way  home  Joseph  reviewed  the  quarrel  with  a  little 
more  calmness,  and,  while  admitting  his  own  rashness  and 
want  of  tact,  felt  relieved  that  it  had  occurred.  Julia  now 
knew,  at  least,  how  sorely  he  had  been  grieved  by  her  selfish- 
ness, and  she  had  thus  an  opportunity,  if  she  really  loved 
him,  of  showing  whether  her  nature  were  capable  of  change. 
He  determined  to  make  no  further  reference  to  the  dissen- 
sion, and  to  avoid  what  might  lead  to  a  mw  one.  He  did 
not  guess,  as  he  approached  the  house,  that  hin  wife  had  long 
been  watching  at  the  front  window,  in  an  anxious,  excited 
state,  and  that  she  only  slipped  back  to  the  sofa  and  covered 
her  head  just  before  he  reached  the  door. 

For  a  day  or  two  she  was  silent,  and  perhaps  a  little 
sullen ;  but  the  payment  of  the  most  pressing  bills,  the 
progress  of  the  new  embellishments,  and  the  necessity  of 
retaining  her  affectionate  playfulness  in  the  presence  of  the 
workmen,  brought  back  her  customary  manner.  Now  and 
then  a  sharp,  indirect  allusion  showed  that  she  had  not 
forgotten,  and  had  not  Joseph  closed  his  teeth  firmly  upor 
his  tongue,  the  household  atmosphere  might  have  beeji 
again  disturbed. 

Not  many  days  elapsed  before  a  very  brief  note  from  Mr. 
Blessing  announced  that  the  fifth  instalment  would  be  need- 
ed. He  wrote  in  great  haste,  he  said,  and  would  explain 
everything  by  a  later  mail. 

Joseph  was  hardly  surprised  now.     He  showed  the  note 
9* 


202  JOSEPH    ANO   HIS   FRIEND. 

to  Julia,  merely  saying :  "  I  have  not  the  money,  and  if  i 
had,  he  could  scarcely  expect  me  to  pay  it  without  knowing 
the  necessity.  My  best  plan  will  be  to  go  to  the  city  at 
once." 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  she  answered.  "  You  will  be  far  better 
satisfied  when  you  have  seen  pa,  and  he  can  also  help  you 
to  raise  the  money  temporarily,  if  it  is  really  inevitable. 
He  knows  all  the  capitalists." 

"  I  shall  do  another  thing,  Julia.  I  shall  sell  enough  of 
the  stock  to  pay  the  instalment ;  nay,  I  shall  sell  it  all,  if  I 
can  do  so  without  loss." 

"  Are  you  — "  she  began  fiercely,  but,  checking  herself, 
merely  added,  "  see  pa  first,  that's  all  I  stipulate." 

Mr.  Blessing  had  not  returned  from  the  Custom-House 
when  Joseph  reached  the  city.  He  had  no  mind  to  sit  in 
the  dark  parlor  and  wait;  so  he  plunged  boldly  into  the 
labyrinth  of  clerks,  porters,  inspectors,  and  tide-waiters. 
Everybody  knew  Blessing,  but  nobody  could  tell  where  he 
was  to  be  found.  Finally  some  one,  more  obliging  than  the 
rest,  said  :  "  Try  the  Wharf-Rat !  " 

The  Wharf-Rat  proved  to  be  a  "  saloon "  in  a  narrow 
alley  behind  the  Custom-House.  On  opening  the  door,  a 
Venetian  screen  prevented  the  persons  at  the  bar  from  being 
immediately  seen,  but  Joseph  recognized  his  father-in-law'a 
voice,  saying,  "  Straight,  if  you  please  !  "  Mr.  Blessing  was 
leaning  against  one  end  of  the  bar,  with  a  glass  in  his  hand, 
engaged  with  an  individual  of  not  very  prepossessing  ap- 
pearance. He  remarked  to  the  latter,  almost  in  a  whisper 
(though  the  words  reached  Joseph's  ears),  "  You  under- 
stand, the  collector  can't  be  seen  every  day ;  it  takes  time, 
and  —  more  or  less  capital.  The  doorkeeper  and  others 
expect  to  be  feed." 


JOSEPH    AND    1118    FRIEND.  203 

As  Joseph  approached,  he  turned  towards  him  -with  an 
angry,  suspicious  look,  which  was  not  changed  into  one  of 
welcome  so  soon  that  a  flash  of  uncomfortable  surprise  did 
not  intervene.  But  the  welcome  once  there,  it  deepened 
and  mellowed,  and  became  so  warm  and  rich  that  only  a 
cold,  contracted  nature  could  have  refused  to  bathe  in  it* 
effulgence. 

"  Why  ! "  he  cried,  with  extended  hands,  "  I  should  as 
soon  have  expected  to  see  daisies  growing  in  this  sawdust,  or 
to  find  these  spittoons  smelling  like  hyacinths  !  Mr.  Tweed, 
>ne  of  our  rising  politicians,  Mr.  Asten,  my  son-in-law  ! 
Asten,  of  Asten  Hall,  I  might  almost  say,  for  I  hear  that 
four  mansion  is  assuming  quite  a  palatial  aspect.  Another 
glass,  if  you  please :  your  throat  must  be  full  of  dust, 
Joseph, — pulvis  faucibus  Iwesit,  if  I  might  be  allowed  to 
change  the  classic  phrase." 

Joseph  tried  to  decline,  but  was  forced  to  compromise  on 
a  moderate  glass  of  ale  ;  while  Mr.  Blessing,  whose  glass 
was  empty,  poured  something  into  it  from  a  black  bottle, 
nodded  to  Mr.  Tweed,  and  saying,  "  Always  straight !  " 
drank  it  off. 

"You  would  not  suppose,"  he  then  said  to  Joseph,  "that 
this  little  room,  dark  as  it  is,  and  not  agreeably  fragrant,  has 
often  witnessed  the  arrangement  of  political  manoauvres 
which  have  decided  the  City,  and  through  the  City  the 
State.  I  have  seen  together  at  that  table,  at  midnight, 
Senator  Slocum,  and  the  Honorables  Whitstone,  Hacks,  and 
Larruper.  Why,  the  First  Auditor  of  the  Treasury  was 
here  no  later  than  last  week  !  I  frequently  transact  some 
of  the  confidential  business  of  the  Custom-House  within 
these  precincts,  as  at  present." 

**  Shall  I  wait  for  you  outside  ?  "  Joseph  asked. 


204  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"I  think  it  will  not  be  necessary.  I  have  stated  the 
facts,  Mr.  Tweed,  and  if  you  accept  them,  the  figures 
can  be  arranged  between  us  at  any  time.  It  is  a  simple 
case  of  algebra :  by  taking  a;,  you  work  out  the  unknown 
quantity." 

With  a  hearty  laugh  at  his  own  smartness,  he  shook  the 
"  rising  politician's "  hand,  and  left  the  Wharf-Rat  with 
Joseph. 

"  We  can  talk  here  as  well  as  in  the  woods,"  he  said. 
"  Nobody  ever  hears  anything  in  this  crowd.  But  perhaps 
we  had  better  not  mention  the  Amaranth  by  name,  as  the 
operation  has  been  kept  so  very  close.  Shall  we  say  '  Par- 
aguay '  instead,  or — still  better — '  Reading,'  which  is  a 
very  common  stock  ?  Well,  then,  I  guess  you  have  come 
to  see  me  in  relation  to  the  Reading  ?  " 

Joseph,  as  briefly  as  possible,  stated  the  embarrassment 
he  suffered,  on  account  of  the  continued  calls  for  payment, 
the  difficulty  of  raising  money  for  the  fifth  instalment,  and 
bluntly  expressed  his  doubts  of  the  success  of  the  specula- 
tion. Mr.  Blessing  heard  him  patiently  to  the  end,  and  then, 
having  collected  himself,  answered : — 

"  I  understand,  most  perfectly,  your  feeling  in  the  matter. 
Further,  I  do  not  deny  that  in  respect  to  the  time  of  realiz- 
ing from  the  Am — Reading,  I  should  say —  I  have  a 'so  been 
disappointed.  It  has  cost  me  no  little  trouble  to  ke^p  my 
own  shares  intact,  and  my  stake  is  so  much  greater  than 
yours,  for  it  is  my  all !  I  am  ready  to  unite  with  the 
Chowder,  at  once:  indeed,  as  one  of  the  directors,  I  men- 
tioned it  at  our  last  meeting,  but  the  proposition,  I  regret  to 
say,  was  not  favorably  entertained.  We  are  dependent,  in  a 
great  measure,  on  Kanuck,  who  is  on  the  spot  superintend 
ang  the  Reading ;  he  has  been  telegraphed  to  come  on,  and 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  205 

promises  to  do  so  as  soon  as  the  funds  now  called  for  are 
forthcoming.  My  faith,  I  hardly  need  intimate,  is  firm." 

"  My  only  resource,  then,"  said  Joseph,  "  will  be  to  sell 
a  portion  of  my  stock,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  There  is  one  drawback  to  that  course,  and  I  am  afraid 
you  may  not  quite  understand  my  explanation.  The — 
Reading  has  not  been  introduced  in  the  market,  and  its 
real  value  could  not  be  demonstrated  without  betraying 
the  secret  lever  by  which  we  intend  hoisting  it  to  a  fancy 
height.  We  could  only  dispose  of  a  portion  of  it  to  capi- 
talists whom  we  choose  to  take  into  our  confidence.  The 
same  reason  would  be  valid  against  hypothecation." 

"  Have  you  paid  this  last  instalment  ?  "  Joseph  suddenly 
asked. 

"  N —  no  ;  not  wholly  ;  but  I  anticipate  a  temporary  ac- 
commodation. If  Mr.  Spelter  deprives  me  of  Clementina, 
as  I  hear  (through  third  parties)  is  daily  becoming  more 
probable,  my  family  expenses  will  be  so  diminished  that  I 
shall  have  an  ample  margin  ;  indeed,  I  shall  feel  like  a  large 
paper  copy,  with  my  leaves  imcut !  " 

He  rubbed  his  hands  gleefully  ;  but  Joseph  was  too  much 
disheartened  to  reply. 

"  This  might  be  done,"  Mr.  Blessing  continued.  "  It  is 
not  certain  that  all  the  stockholders  have  yet  paid.  I  will 
look  over  the  books,  and  if  such  be  the  case,  your  delay 
would  not  be  a  sporadic  delinquency.  If  otherwise,  I  will 
endeavor  to  gain  the  consent  of  my  fellow-directors  to  the 
introduction  of  a  new  capitalist,  to  whom  a  small  portion 
of  your  interest  may  be  transferred.  I  trust  you  perceive 
the  relevancy  of  this  caution.  "We  do  not  mean  that  our 
flower  shall  always  blush  unseen,  and  waste  its  sweetness  on 
the  oleaginous  air ;  we  only  wish  to  guard  against  its  being 


206  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FBIEND. 

*  untimely  ripped '  (as  Shakespeare  says)  from  its  parent 
stalk.  I  can  well  imagine  how  incomprehensible  all  this 
may  appear  to  you.  In  all  probability  much  of  yow  con- 
versation at  home,  relative  to  crops  and  the  like,  would  be 
to  me  an  unknown  dialect.  But  I  should  not,  therefore, 
doubt  your  intelligence  and  judgment  in  such  matters." 

Joseph  began  to  grow  impatient.  "  Do  1  understand 
you  to  say,  Mr.  Blessing,"  be  asked,  "  that  the  call  for  the 
fifth  instalment  can  be  met  by  the  sale  of  a  part  of  my 
stock  ?  " 

"  In  an  ordinary  case  it  might  not — under  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  our  operation — be  possible.  But  I  trust  I 
do  not  exaggerate  my  own  influence  when  I  say  that  it  is 
within  my  power  to  arrange  it.  If  you  will  confide  it  to 
my  hands,  you  understand,  of  course,  that  a  slight  formality 
is  necessary, — a  power  of  attorney  ?  " 

Joseph,  in  his  haste  and  excitement,  had  not  considered 
this,  or  any  other  legal  point  :  Mr.  Blessing  was  right. 

"  Then,  supposing  the  shares  to  be  worth  only  their  par 
value,"  he  said,  "  the  power  need  not  apply  to  more  than 
one-tenth  of  my  stock  ?  " 

Mr.  Blessing  came  into  collision  with  a  gentleman  passing 
him.  Mutual  wrath  was  aroused,  followed  by  mutual  apo- 
logies. "  Let  us  turn  into  the  other  street,"  he  said  to 
Joseph  ;  "  really,  our  lives  are  hardly  safe  in  this  crowd  ;  it 
is  nearly  three  o'clock,  and  the  banks  will  soon  be  closed." 

"  It  would  be  prudent  to  allow  a  margin,"  he  resumed, 
after  their  course  had  been  changed  :  "  the  money  market  is 
very  tight,  and  if  a  necessity  were  suspected,  most  capital- 
ists are  unprincipled  enough  to  exact  according  to  the 
urgency  of  the  need.  I  do  not  say — nor  do  I  at  all  antici- 
pate— that  it  would  be  so  in  your  case ;  still,  the  future  is 


JOSEPH   AXTD  HIS   FKiffND.  207 

ft  sort  of  dissolving  view,  and  my  suggestion  is  that  of  the 
merest  prudence.  I  have  no  doubt  that  double  the  amount 
— say  one-fifth  of  your  stock — would  guard  us  against  alJ 
contingencies.  If  you  prefer  not  to  intrust  the  matter  to 
my  hands,  I  will  introduce  you  to  Honeyspoon  Brothers, 
the  bankers, — the  elder  Honeyspoon  being  a  director, — who 
will  be  very  ready  to  execute  your  commission." 

What  could  Joseph  do  ?  It  was  impossible  to  say  to  Mr. 
Blessing's  face  that  he  mistrusted  him :  yet  he  certainly  did 
not  trust !  He  was  weary  of  plausible  phrases,  the  import 
of  which  he  was  powerless  to  dispute,  yet  which  were  so  at 
variance  with  what  seemed  to  be  the  facts  of  the  case.  He 
felt  that  he  was  lifted  aloft  into  a  dazzling,  secure  atmos- 
phere, but  as  often  as  he  turned  to  look  at  the  wings  which 
upheld  liim,  their  plumage  shrivelled  into  dust,  and  he  fell 
an  immense  distance  before  his  feet  touched  a  bit  of  reality. 
The  power  of  attorney  was  given.  Joseph  declined  Mr. 
Blessing's  invitation  to  dine  with  him  at  the  Universal 
Hotel,  the  Blessing  table  being  "  possibly  a  little  lean  to 
one  accustomed  to  the  bountiful  profusion  of  the  country," 
on  the  plea  that  he  must  return  by  the  evening  train ;  but 
such  a  weariness  and  disgust  came  over  him  that  he  halted 
at  the  Farmers'  Tavern,  and  took  a  room  for  the  night.  He 
slept  until  long  into  the  morning,  and  then,  cheered  in  spi- 
rit through  the  fresh  vigor  of  all  his  physical  functions, 
started  homewards. 


208  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FEIKND. 


CHAPTER 


A  CRISIS. 

JOSEPH  had  made  half  the  distance  between  Oakland  Sta 
tion  and  his  farm,  walking  leisurely,  when  a  buggy,  drawL 
by  an  aged  and  irreproachable  gray  horse,  came  towards 
him.  The  driver  was  the  Reverend  Mr.  Chaffinch.  He 
stopped  as  they  met. 

"  Will  you  turn  back,  as  far  as  that  tree  ?  "  said  the  cler- 
gyman, after  greetings  had  been  exchanged.  "  I  have  a 
message  to  deliver." 

"  Now,"  he  continued,  reining  up  his  horse  in  the  shade, 
"  we  can  talk  without  interruption.  I  will  ask  you  to  listen 
to  me  with  the  spiritual,  not  the  carnal  ear.  I  must  not  be 
false  to  my  high  calling,  and  the  voice  of  my  own  conscience 
calls  me  to  awaken  yours." 

Joseph  said  nothing,  but  the  flush  upon  his  face  was  that 
of  anger,  not  of  confusion,  as  Mr.  Chaffinch  innocently  sup- 
posed. 

"  It  is  hard  for  a  young  man,  especially  one  wise  in  his 
own  conceit,  to  see  how  the  snares  of  the  Adversary  are 
closing  around  him.  We  cannot  plead  ignorance,  however, 
when  the  Light  is  there,  and  we  wilfully  turn  our  eyes  from 
it.  You  are  walking  on  a  road,  Joseph  Asten,  it  may  seem 
smooth  and  fair  to  you,  but  do  you  know  where  it  leads  ? 
1  will  tell  yon  :  to  Death  and  Hell  !  " 

Still  Joseph  was  silent. 

"  It  ia  not  too  late  !    Your  fault,  I  fear,  is  that  you  attach 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FBIEND.  209 

merit  to  works,  as  if  works  could  save  you  !  You  look  to  a 
cold,  barren  morality  for  support,  and  imagine  that  to  do 
what  is  called  '  right '  is  enough  for  God  !  You  shut  your 
eyes  to  the  blackness  of  your  own  sinful  heart,  and  are  too 
proud  to  acknowledge  the  vileness  and  depravity  of  man's 
nature ;  but  without  this  acknowledgment  your  morality  (as 
you  call  it)  is  corrupt,  your  good  works  (as  you  suppose 
them  to  be)  will  avail  you  naught.  You  are  outside  £he 
pale  of  Grace,  and  while  you  continue  there,  knowing  the 
door  to  be  open,  there  is  no  Mercy  for  you  !  " 

The  flush  on  Joseph's  face  faded,  and  he  became  very  pale, 
but  he  still  waited.  "  I  hope,"  Mr.  Chaffinch  continued, 
after  a  pause,  "  that  your  silence  is  the  beginning  of  convic- 
tion. It  only  needs  an  awakening,  an  opening  of  the  eyes  in 
them  that  sleep.  Do  you  not  recognize  your  guilt,  your 
miserable  condition  of  sin  ?  " 

"  No ! " 

Mr.  Chaffinch  started,  and  an  ugly,  menacing  expression 
came  into  his  face. 

"  Before  you  speak  again,"  said  Joseph,  "  tell  me  one 
thing  !  Am  I  indebted  for  this  Catechism  to  the  order — 
perhaps  I  should  say  the  request — of  my  wife  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  deny  that  she  has  expressed  a  Christian  con- 
cern for  your  state  ;  but  I  do  not  wait  for  a  request  when 
I  see  a  soul  in  peril.  If  I  care  for  the  sheep  that  willingly 
obey  the  shepherd,  how  much  more  am  I  commanded  to 
look  after  them  which  stray,  and  which  the  wolves  and 
bears  are  greedy  to  devour  !  " 

"  Have  you  ever  considered,  Mr.  Chaffinch,"  Joseph  re- 
joined,  lifting  his  head  and  speaking  with  measured  clear- 
ness, "  that  an  intelligent  man  may  possibly  be  aware  that 
he  has  an  immortal  soul, — that  the  health  and  purity  and 


210  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

growth  of  that  soul  may  possibly  be  his  first  concern  in  life, 
—  that  no  other  man  can  know,  as  he  does,  its  imperfections, 
its  needs,  its  aspirations  which  rise  directly  towards  God  j 
and  that  the  attempt  of  a  stranger  to  examine  and  criticise, 
and  perhaps  blacken,  this  most  sacred  part  of  his  nature, 
may  possibly  be  a  pious  impertinence  ?  " 
/  "  Ah,  the  natural  depravity  of  the  heart  !  "  Mr.  Chaffinch 
groaned. 

"  It  is  not  the  depravity,  it  is  the  only  pure  quality  which 
the  hucksters  of  doctrine,  the  money-changers  in  God's  tem- 
ple of  Man,  cannot  touch  !  Shall  I  render  a  reckoning  to 
you  on  the  day  when  souls  are  judged  ?  Are  you  the  infal- 
lible agent  of  the  Divine  Mercy  ?  What  blasphemy  !  " 

Mr.  Chaffinch  shuddered.  "  I  wash  my  hands  of  you  !  " 
he  cried.  "  I  have  had  to  deal  with  many  sinners  in  my 
day,  but  I  have  found  no  sin  which  came  so  directly  from 
the  Devil  as  the  pride  of  the  mind.  If  you  were  rotten 
in  all  your  members  from  the  sins  of  the  flesh,  I  might 
have  a  little  hope.  Verily,  it  shall  go  easier  with  the 
murderer  and  the  adulterer  on  that  day  than  with  such 


as  ye 


" 


He  gave  the  horse  a  more  than  saintly  stroke,  and  the 
vehicle  rattled  away.  Joseph  could  not  see  the  predomi- 
nance of  routine  in  all  that  Mr.  Chaffinch  had  said.  He 
was  too  excited  to  remember  that  certain  phrases  are  trans- 
mitted, and  used  without  a  thought  of  their  tremendous  cha- 
racter ;  he  applied  every  word  personally,  and  felt  it  as  an 
outrage  in  all  the  sensitive  fibres  of  his  soul.  And  who 
had  invoked  the  outrage  ?  His  wife  :  Mr.  Chaffinch  had 
confessed  it.  What  representations  had  she  made  ?  —  he 
could  only  measure  them  by  the  character  of  the  clergyman's 
charges.  He  sat  down  on  the  bank,  sick  at  heart  ;  it  was  im- 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FBIEND.  211 

possible  to  go  home  and  meet  her  in  his  present  frame  oi 
mind. 

Presently  he  started  up,  crying  aloud :  "  I  will  go  to 
Philip  !  He  cannot  help  me,  I  know,  but  I  must  have  a 
word  of  love  from  a  friend,  or  I  shall  go  mad  !  " 

He  retraced  his  steps,  took  the  road  up  the  valley,  and 
walked  rapidly  towards  the  Forge.  The  tumult  in  his  blood 
gradually  expended  its  force,  but  it  had  carried  him  along 
more  swiftly  than  he  was  aware.  When  he  reached  the 
point  where,  looking  across  the  valley,  now  narrowed  to  a 
glen,  he  could  see  the  smoke  of  the  Forge  near  at  hand,  and 
even  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  cottage  on  the  knoll,  he  stopped. 
Up  to  this  moment  he  had  felt,  not  reflected ;  and  a  secret 
instinct  told  him  that  he  should  not  submit  his  trouble  to 
Philip's  riper  manhood  until  it  was  made  clear  and  coherent 
in  his  own  mind.  He  must  keep  Philip's  love,  at  all  hazards ; 
and  to  keep  it  he  must  not  seem  simply  a  creature  of  moods 
and  sentiments,  whom  his  friend  might  pity,  but  could 
not  respect. 

He  left  the  road,  crossed  a  sloping  field  on  the  left,  and 
presently  found  himself  on  a  bank  overhanging  the  stream. 
Under  the  wood  of  oaks  and  hemlocks  the  laurel  grew  in 
rich,  shining  clumps ;  the  current,  at  this  point  deep,  full, 
and  silent,  glimmered  through  the  leaves,  twenty  feet  below ; 
the  opposite  shore  was  level,  and  green  with  an  herbage 
which  no  summer  could  wither.  He  leaned  against  a  hem- 
lock bole,  and  tried  to  think,  but  it  was  not  easy  to  review 
the  past  while  his  future  life  overhung  him  like  a  descending 
burden  which  he  had  not  the  strength  to  lift.  Love  be- 
trayed, trust  violated,  aspiration  misinterpreted,  were  the 
spiritual  aspects ;  a  divided  household,  entangling  obliga- 
tions, a  probability  of  serious  loss,  were  the  material  evil* 


212  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

whicii  accompanied  them.  He  was  so  unprepared  for  the 
change  that  he  could  only  rebel,  not  measure,  analyze,  and 
ast  about  for  ways  of  relief. 

It  was  a  miserable  strait  in  which  he  found  himself;  and 
the  more  he  thought — or,  rather,  seemed  to  think — the  less 
was  he  able  to  foresee  any  other  than  an  unfortunate  solu- 
tion. What  were  his  better  impulses,  if  men  persisted  in 
finding  them  evil?  What  was  life,  yoked  to  such  treachery 
and  selfishness?  Life  had  been  to  him  a  hope,  an  inspira- 
tion, a  sound,  enduring  joy  ;  now  it  might  never  be  so  again  ! 
Then  what  a  release  were  death  ! 

He  walked  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  rock.  A  few  peb- 
bles, dislodged  by  his  feet,  slid  from  the  brink,  and  plunged 
with  a  bubble  and  a  musical  tinkle  into  the  dark,  sliding 
waters.  One  more  step,  and  the  release  which  seemed  so  fair 
might  be  attained.  He  felt  a  morbid  sense  of  delight  in 
playing  with  the  thought.  Gathering  a  handful  of  broken 
btones,  he  let  them  fall  one  by  one,  thinking,  "  So  I  hold  my 
fate  in  my  hand."  He  leaned  over  and  saw  a  shifting, 
quivering  image  of  himself  projected  against  the  reflected 
sky,  and  a  fancy,  almost  as  clear  as  a  voice,  said  :  "  This  is 
your  present  self:  what  will  you  do  with  it  beyond  the  gulf, 
where  only  the  soul  superior  to  circumstances  here  receives 
a  nobler  destiny  ?  " 

He  was  still  gazing  down  at  the  flickering  figure,  when  a 
step  came  upon  the  dead  leaves.  He  turned  and  saw  Philip, 
moving  stealthily  towards  him,  pale,  with  outstretched  hand. 
They  looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment  without  speak- 
ing. 

"  I  guess  j  our  thought,  Philip,"  Joseph  then  said.  "  But 
the  things  easiest  to  do  are  sometimes  the  most  impossible." 

"  The  bnwest  man  may  allow  a  fancy  to  pass  through  his 


JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FRIEND.  213 

mind,   Joseph,   which    only   the    coward   will   carry    into 

effect." 

"  I  am  not  a  coward !  "  Joseph  exclaimed. 

Philip  took  his  hand,  drew  him  nearer,  and  flinging  nil 
arms  around  him,  held  him  to  his  heart. 

Then  they  sat  down,  side  by  side. 

"I  was  up  the  stream,  on  the  other  side,  trolling  for 
trout,"  said  Philip,  "  when  I  saw  you  in  the  road.  I  was 
welcoming  your  coming,  in  my  heart :  then  you  stopped, 
stood  still,  and  at  last  turned  away.  Something  in  your 
movements  gave  me  a  sudden,  terrible  feeling  of  anxiety :  1 
threw  down  my  rod,  came  around  by  the  bridge  at  the 
Forge,  and  followed  you  here.  Do  not  blame  me  for  my 
foolish  dread." 

"  Dear,  dear  friend,"  Joseph  cried,  "  I  did  not  mean  to 
come  to  you  until  I  seemed  stronger  and  more  rational  in  my 
own  eyes.  If  that  were  a  vanity,  it  is  gone  now :  I  confess 
my  weakness  and  ignorance.  Tell  me,  if  you  can,  why  this 
das  come  upon  me  ?  Tell  me  why  nothing  that  I  have  been 
taught,  why  no  atom  of  the  faith  which  I  still  must  cling  to, 
explains,  consoles,  or  remedies  any  wrong  of  my  life  !  n 

"  Faiths,  I  suspect,"  Philip  answered,  "  are,  like  laws, 
adapted  to  the  average  character  of  the  human  race.  You, 
in  the  confiding  purity  of  your  nature,  are  not  an  average 
man :  you  are  very  much  above  the  class,  and  if  virtue  were 
its  own  reward,  you  would  be  most  exceptionally  happy. 
Then  the  puzzle  is,  what's  the  particular  use  of  virtue  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Philip,  but  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  ask 
the  question.  I  find  myself  so  often  on  the  point  of  doubt- 
ing all  that  was  my  Truth  a  little  while  ago  ;  and  yet,  why 
should  my  misfortunes,  as  an  individual,  make  the  truth  a 
lie  ?  I  am  only  one  man  among  millions  who  must  have 


214  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

Caith  in  the  efficacy  of  virtue.  Philip,  if  I  believed  the  iaith 
to  be  false,  I  think  I  should  still  say,  '  Let  it  be  preached ! ' ' 

Joseph  related  to  Philip  the  whole  of  his  miserable  story< 
not  sparing  himself,  nor  concealing  the  weakness  which 
allowed  him  to  be  entangled  to  such  an  extent.  Philip's 
brow  grew  dark  as  he  listened,  but  at  the  close  of  the  recital 
his  face  was  calm,  though  stern. 

"  Now,"  said  he, — "  now  put  this  aside  for  a  little  while, 
and  give  your  ear  (and  your  heart  too,  Joseph)  to  my  story. 
Do  not  compare  my  fortune  with  yours,  but  let  us  apply  to 
both  the  laws  which  seem  to  govern  life,  and  see  whether 
justice  is  possible." 

Joseph  had  dismissed  his  wife's  suspicion,  after  the  dinner 
at  Hopeton's,  so  immediately  from  his  memory,  that  he  had 
really  forgotten  it ;  and  he  was  not  only  startled,  but  also  a 
little  shocked,  by  Philip's  confession.  Still,  he  saw  that  ii 
was  only  the  reverse  form  of  his  own  experience,  not  more 
strange,  perhaps  not  more  to  be  condemned,  yet  equally  in- 
evitable. 

"  Is  there  no  way  out  of  this  labyrinth  of  wrong  ?  "  Philip 
exclaimed.  "  Two  natures,  as  far  apart  as  Truth  and  False- 
hood, monstrously  held  together  in  the  most  intimate,  the 
holiest  of  bonds, — two  natures  destined  for  each  other  mon- 
strously kept  apart  by  the  same  bonds !  Is  life  to  be  so 
sacrificed  to  habit  and  prejudice?  I  said  that  Faith,  like 
Law,  was  fashioned  for  the  average  man  :  then  there  must  be 
a  loftier  faith,  a  juster  law,  for  the  men — and  the  women — 
who  cannot  shape  themselves  according  to  the  common-place 
pattern  of  society, — who  were  born  with  instincts,  needs, 
knowledge,  and  rights — ay,  rights  t — of  their  own  !  " 

"But,  Philip,"  said  Joseph,  "we  were  both  to  blame:  yon 
through  too  little  trust,  I  through  too  much.  We  have  both 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FKIEND.  215 

been  rash  and  impatient :  I  cannot  forget  that ;  and  how  are 
we  to  know  that  the  punishment,  terrible  as  it  seems,  is  dis- 
proportioned  to  the  offence  ?  " 

"  We  know  this,  Joseph, — and  who  can  know  it  and  be 
patient? — that  the  power  which  controls  our  lives  is  pitiless, 
unrelenting  !  There  is  the  same  punishment  for  an  innocent 
mistake  as  for  a  conscious  crime.  A  certain  Nemesis  follows 
ignorance,  regardless  how  good  and  pure  may  be  the  individ- 
ual nature.  Had  you  even  guessed  your  wife's  true  charac- 
ter just  before  marriage,  your  very  integrity,  your  conscience, 
and  the  conscience  of  the  world,  would  have  compelled  the 
union,  and  Nature  would  not  have  mitigated  her  selfishness 
to  reward  you  with  a  tolerable  life.  O  no  !  You  would 
still  have  suffered  as  now.  Shall  a  man  with  a  heart  feel 
this  horrible  injustice,  and  not  rebel?  Grant  that  I  am 
rightly  punished  for  my  impatience,  my  pride,  my  jealousy, 
how  have  you  been  rewarded  for  your  stainless  youth,  youi 
innocent  trust,  your  almost  miraculous  goodness  ?  Had  you 
known  the  world  better,  even  though  a  part  of  your  know- 
ledge might  have  been  evil,  you  would  have  escaped  this 
fatal  marriage.  Nothing  can  be  more  certain  ;  and  will  you 
simply  groan  and  bear  ?  What  compensating  fortune  have 
you,  or  can  you  ever  expect  to  find  ?" 

Joseph  was  silent  at  first ;  but  Philip  could  see,  from  the 
trembling  of  his  hands,  and  his  quick  breathing,  that  he  was 
profoundly  agitated.  "  There  is  something  within  me,"  he 
said,  at  last,  "  which  accepts  everything  you  say ;  and  yet,  it 
alarms  me.  I  feel  a  mighty  temptation  in  your  words :  they 
could  lead  me  to  snap  my  chains,  break  violently  away  from 
my  past  and  present  life,  and  surrender  myself  to  will  and 
appetite.  O  Philip,  if  we  could  make  our  lives  wholly  our 
own  I  If  we  could  find  a  spot — " 


216  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  1  know  such  a  spot !  "  Philip  cried,  interrupting  him,— 
"a  great  valley,  bounded  by  a  hundred  miles  of  snowy 
peaks;  lakes  in  its  bed  ;  enormous  hillsides,  dotted  with 
groves  of  ilex  and  pine  ;  orchards  of  orange  and  olive ;  a  per- 
fect climate,  where  it  is  bliss  enough  just  to  breathe,  and  free- 
dom from  the  distorted  laws  of  men,  for  none  are  near  enough 
to  enforce  them !  If  there  is  no  legal  way  of  escape  for  you, 
here,  at  least,  there  is  no  force  which  can  drag  you  back, 
once  you  are  there :  I  will  go  with  you,  and  perhaps — per- 
haps—" 

Philip's  face  glowed,  and  the  vague  alarm  in  Joseph's 
heart  took  a  definite  form.  He  guessed  what  words  had 
been  left  unspoken. 

"  If  we  could  be  sure !  "  he  said. 

"  Sure  of  what  ?  Have  I  exaggerated  the  wrong  in  your 
ease  ?  Say  we  should  be  outlaws  there,  in  our  freedom ! — 
here  we  are  fettered  outlaws." 

"  I  have  been  trying,  Philip,  to  discover  a  law  superior 
to  that  under  which  we  suffer,  and  I  think  I  have  found  it. 
If  it  be  true  that  ignorance  is  equally  punished  with  guilt ; 
if  causes  and  consequences,  in  which  there  is  neither  pity 
nor  justice,  govern  our  lives, — then  what  keeps  our  souls 
from  despair  but  the  infinite  pity  and  perfect  justice  of 
God  ?  Yes,  here  is  the  difference  between  human  and  di- 
vine law !  This  makes  obedience  safer  than  rebellion.  If 
you  and  I,  Philip,  stand  above  the  level  of  common  natures, 
feeling  higher  needs  and  claiming  other  rights,  let  us  shape 
them  according  to  the  law  which  is  above,  not  that  which  is 
below  us  ! " 

Philip  grew  pale.  "  Then  you  mean  to  endure  in  patience, 
tnd  expect  me  to  do  the  same  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  If  I  can.    The  old  foundations  upon  which  my  life  rested 


JO8KPH    AKD   HIS   FRIEND.  SJ17 

are  broken  up,  and  I  am  too  bewildered  to  venture  on  a 
random  path.  Give  me  time;  nay,  let  us  both  strive  to 
wait  a  little.  I  see  nothing  clearly  but  this :  there  is  a 
Divine  government,  on  which  I  lean  now  as  never  before. 
Yes,  I  say  again,  the  very  wrong  that  has  come  xipon  us 
makes  God  necessary  1 " 

It  was  Philip's  turn  to  be  agitated.  There  was  a  simple, 
solemn  conviction  in  Joseph's  voice  which  struck  to  his  heart. 
He  had  spoken  from  the  heat  of  his  passion,  it  is  true,  but 
he  had  the  courage  to  disregard  the  judgment  of  men,  and 
make  his  protest  a  reality.  Both  natures  shared  the  desire, 
and  were  enticed  by  the  daring  of  his  dream ;  but  out  of 
Joseph's  deeper  conscience  came,  a  whisper,  against  which 
the  cry  of  passion  was  powerless. 

"Yes,  we  will  wait,"  said  Philip,  after  a  long  pause. 
"  You  came  to  me,  Joseph,  as  you  said,  in  weakness  and 
confusion  :  I  have  been  talking  of  your  innocence  and  igno- 
rance. Let  us  not  measure  ourselves  in  this  way.  It  is  not 
experience  alone  which  creates  manhood.  What  will  be- 
come of  us  I  cannot  tell,  but  I  will  not,  I  dare  not,  say  you 
are  wrong ! " 

They  took  each  other's  hands.  The  day  was  fading,  the 
landscape  was  silent,  and  only  the  twitter  of  nesting  birds 
was  heard  in  the  boughs  above  them.  Each  gave  way  to 
the  impulse  of  his  manly  love,  rarer,  alas  !  but  as  tender  and 
true  as  the  love  of  woman,  and  they  drew  nearer  and  kissed 
each  other.  As  they  walked  back  and  parted  on  the  high- 
way, each  felt  that  life  was  not  wholly  unkind,  and  that 
happiness  was  not  yet  impossible. 
10 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FRIEND 


CHAPTER  XXT. 

UNDER   THE   WATEB. 

JOSEPH  said  nothing  that  evening  concerning  the  result 
of  his  trip  to  the  city,  and  Julia,  who  instantly  detected  the 
signs  which  a  powerful  excitement  had  left  upon  his  face, 
thought  it  prudent  to  ask  no  immediate  questions.  She  was 
purposely  demonstrative  in  little  arrangements  for  his  com- 
fort, but  spared  him  her  caresses ;  she  did  not  intend  to  be 
again  mistaken  in  choosing  the  time  and  occasion  of  bestow- 
ing them. 

The  next  morning,  when  he  felt  that  he  could  speak 
calmly,  Joseph  told  her  what  he  had  done,  carefully  avoid 
ing  any  word  that  might  seem  to  express  disappointment,  or 
even  doubt. 

"  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  that  pa  will  make  it  easy  for 
you  ?  "  she  ventured  to  say. 

"He  thinks  so."  Then  Joseph  could  not  help  adding: 
"  He  depends,  I  imagine,  upon  your  sister  Clementina  mar- 
rying a  Mr.  Spelter, — 'a  man  of  immense  wealth,  but,  I 
regret  to  say,  no  refinement.' " 

Julia  bit  her  lip,  and  her  eyes  assumed  that  haid,  flinty 
look  which  her  husband  knew  so  well.  "If  Clementina 
marries  immense  wealth,"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  half-con- 
sealed  sneer,  "  she  will  become  simply  insufferable !  But 
what  difference  can  that  make  in  pa's  business  affairs  ?  " 

The  answer  tingled  on  Joseph's  tongue :  "  Probably  ho 
expects  Mr.  Speltei  to  indorse  a  promissory  note";  but  he 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND.  219 

held  it  back.  "  What  I  have  resolved  to  do  is  this,"  he 
said.  "  In  a  day  or  two — as  soon  as  I  can  arrange  to  leave 
—I  shall  make  a  journey  to  the  oil  region,  and  satisfy  myself 
where  and  what  the  Amaranth  is.  Your  own  practical 
instincts  will  tell  you,  Julia,  that  this  intention  of  mine  must 
be  kept  secret,  even  from  your  father." 

She  leaned  her  head  upon  her  hand,  and  appeared  to 
reflect.  When  she  looked  up  her  face  had  a  cheerful,  con- 
fiding expression. 

"  I  think  you  are  right,"  she  then  said.  "  If — if  things 
should  not  happen  to  be  quite  as  they  are  represented 
you  can  secure  yourself  against  any  risk — and  pa,  too — 
before  the  others  know  of  it.  You  will  have  the  inside 
track ;  that  is,  if  there  is  one.  On  the  other  hand,  if  all  is 
right,  pa  can  easily  manage,  if  some  of  the  others  are  shaky 
in  their  faith,  to  get  their  stock  at  a  bargain.  I  am  sure  he 
would  have  gone  out  there  himself,  if  his  official  service? 
were  not  so  important  to  the  government." 

It  was  a  hard  task  for  Joseph  to  keep  his  feelings  to  him- 
self. 

"  And  now,"  she  continued, — "  now  I  know  you  will  agree 
to  a  plan  of  mine,  which  I  was  going  to  propose.  Lucy 
Henderson's  school  closes  this  week,  and  Mrs.  Hopeton  tells 
me  she  is  a  little  overworked  and  ailing.  It  would  hardly 
help  her  much  to  go  home,  where  she  could  not  properly 
rest,  as  her  father  is  a  hard,  avaricious  man,  who  can't  en- 
dure idleness,  except,  I  suppose,  in  a  corpse  (so  these  people 
seem  to  me).  I  want  to  ask  Lucy  to  come  here.  I  think 
you  always  liked  her "  (here  Julia  shot  a  swift,  stealthy 
glance  at  Joseph),  "  and  so  she  will  be  an  agreeable  guest 
for  both  of  us.  She  shall  just  rest  and  grow  strong.  While 
you  aro  absent,  I  shall  not  seem  quite  so  lonely.  You  may 


220  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

be  gone  a  week  or  more,  and  I  shall  find  the  separation  ver? 
hard  to  bear,  even  with  her  company." 

"  Why  has  Mrs.  Hopeton  not  invited  her  ?  "  Joseph  asked, 

**  The  Hopetons  are  going  to  the  sea-shore  in  a  few  days 
She  would  take  Lucy  as  a  guest,  but  there  is  one  difficulty 
in  the  way.  She  thinks  Lucy  would  accept  the  trip  and  the 
stay  there  as  an  act  of  hospitality,  but  that  she  cannot  (or 
thinks  she  cannot)  afford  the  dresses  that  would  enable  her 
to  appear  in  Mrs.  Hopeton's  circle.  But  it  is  just  as  well ; 
I  am  sure  Lucy  would  feel  more  at  home  here." 

"  Then  by  all  means  ask  her ! "  said  Joseph.  "  Lucy 
Henderson  is  a  noble  girl,  for  she  has  forced  a  true-hearted 
man  to  love  her,  without  return." 

"Ind-e-e-d!" 

Julia's  drawl  denoted  surprise  and  curiosity,  but  Joseph 
felt  that  once  more  he  had  spoken  too  quickly.  He  en- 
deavored to  cover  his  mistake  by  a  hearty  acquiescence  in 
the  plan,  which  was  speedily  arranged  between  them,  in  all 
its  details,  Lucy's  consent  being  taken  for  granted. 

It  required,  however,  the  extreme  of  Julia's  powers  of 
disguise,  aided  by  Joseph's  frank  and  hearty  words  and  Mrs. 
Hopeton's  influence,  to  induce  Lucy  to  accept  the  invitation. 
Unable  to  explain  wholly  to  herself,  much  less  mention  to 
any  other,  the  instinct  which  held  her  back,  she  found  herself, 
finally,  placed  in  a  false  position,  and  then  resolved  to  blindly 
trust  that  she  was  doing  right,  inasmuch  as  she  could  not  make 
it  clear  that  she  was  doing  wrong.  Her  decision  once  taken, 
she  forcibly  banished  all  misgivings,  and  determined  to  find 
nothing  but  a  cheerful  and  restful  holiday  before  her. 

And,  indeed,  the  first  day  or  two  of  her  residence  at  tho 
farm,  before  Joseph's  departure,  brought  her  a  more  agreea- 
ble experience  than  she  had  imagined.  Both  host  and  host* 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  221 

988  were  busy,  the  latter  in  the  household  and  the  former  ir 
the  fields,  and  when  they  met  at  meals  or  in  the  evening,  her 
presence  was  an  element  which  compelled  an  appearance  of 
harmony.  She  was  siirprised  to  find  so  quiet  and  ordered  a 
life  in  two  persons  whom  she  had  imagined  to  be  miserably 
unfitted  for  each  other,  and  began  to  suspect  that  she  had 
been  seriously  mistaken. 

After  Joseph  left,  the  two  women  were  much  together. 
Julia  insisted  that  she  should  do  nothing,  and  amiably  pro- 
tested at  first  against  Lucy  giving  her  so  much  of  her  society ; 
but,  little  by  little,  the  companionship  was  extended  and  be- 
came more  frank  and  intimate.  Lucy  was  in  a  charitable 
mood,  and  found  it  very  easy  to  fancy  that  Julia's  character 
had  been  favorably  affected  by  the  graver  duties  which  had 
come  with  her  marriage.  Indeed,  Julia  found  many  indi- 
rect ways  of  hinting  as  much  :  she  feared  she  had  seemed 
nighty  (perhaps  a  little  shallow)  ;  looking  back  upon  her  past 
life  she  could  see  that  such  a  charge  would  not  be  unjust. 
Her  education  had  been  so  superficial ;  all  city  education  of 
young  women  was  false ;  they  were  taught  to  consider  ex- 
ternal appearances,  and  if  they  felt  a  void  in  their  nature 
which  these  would  not  fill,  whither  could  they  turn  for  coun- 
sel or  knowledge  ? 

Her  face  was  sad  and  thoughtful  while  she  so  spoke  ;  but 
when,  shaking  her  dark  curls  with  a  pretty  impatience,  she 
would  lift  her  head  and  ask,  with  a  smile :  "  But  it  is  not 
too  late,  in  my  case,  is  it  ?  I'm  really  an  older  child,  you 
know," — Lucy  could  only  answer:  "Since  you  know  what 
you  need,  it  can  never  be  too  late.  The  very  fact  that  you 
do  know,  proves  that  it  will  be  easy  for  you." 

Then  Julia  would  shake  her  head  again,  and  say,  "  O,  you 
are  too  kind,  Lucy  ;  you  judge  my  nature  by  your  own." 


222  JOSEPH   AND    HIS    FRIEND. 

When  the  friendly  relation  between  them  had  developed  a 
little  further,  Julia  became — though  still  with  a  modest  reti- 
cence—more confiding  in  relation  to  Joseph. 

"  He  is  so  good,  so  very,  very  true  and  good,"  she  said,  one 
day,  "that  it  grieves  me,  more  than  I  can  tell,  to  be  the  cause 
of  a  little  present  anxiety  of  his.  As  it  is  only  a  business 
matter,  some  exaggerated  report  of  which  you  have  probably 
heard  (for  I  know  there  have  been  foolish  stories  afloat  in 
the  neighborhood),  I  have  no  hesitation  about  confiding  it 
to  you.  Perhaps  you  can  advise  me  how  to  atone  for  my 
error ;  for,  if  it  was  an  error,  I  fear  it  cannot  be  remedied 
now  ;  if  not,  it  will  be  a  relief  to  me  to  confess  it." 

Thereupon  she  gave  a  minute  history  of  the  Amaranth 
speculation,  omitting  the  energy  of  her  persuasion  with 
Joseph,  and  presenting  very  strongly  her  father's  views  of  a 
sure  and  splendid  success  soon  to  follow.  "  It  was  for 
Joseph's  sake,"  she  concluded,  "  rather  than  my  own,  that 
I  advised  the  investment;  though,  knowing  his  perfect  un- 
selfishness, I  fear  he  complied  only  for  mine.  He  had 
guessed  already,  it  seems  to  me  now,  that  we  women  like 
beauty  as  well  as  comfort  about  our  lives ;  otherwise,  he 
would  hardly  have  undertaken  these  expensive  improve- 
ments of  our  home.  But,  Lucy,  it  terrifies  me  to  think  that 
pa  and  Joseph  and  I  may  have  been  deceived  !  The  more  I 
shut  my  mind  against  the  idea  the  more  it  returns  to  torment 
mfs.  I,  who  brought  so  little  to  him,  to  be  the  instrument 
of  such  a  loss  !  O,  if  you  were  not  here,  how  could  I  en- 
dure the  anxiety  and  the  absence  ?  " 

She  buried  her  face  in  her  handkerchief,  and  sobbed. 

"I  know  Jo3<<ph  to  be  good  and  true,"  said  Lucy,  "and  1 
Ixdieve  that  he  wdll  bear  the  loss  cheerfully,  if  it  should 
v  me.  But  it  is  never  good  to  '  borrow  trouble,'  as  we  a&j 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

in  the  country.  Neither  the  worse  iior  the  best  things 
which  we  imagine  ever  come  upon  us." 

"  You  are  wrong  !  "  cried  Julia,  starting  up  and  laughing 
gleefully ;  "  I  fiave  the  best  thing,  in  my  husband  !  And  yet, 
you  are  right,  too  :  no  worst  thing  can  come  to  me,  while  1 
keep  him  !  " 

Lucy  wished  to  visit  the  Hopetons  before  their  departure 
for  the  sea-shore,  and  Julia  was  quite  ready  to  accompany 
her.  Only,  with  the  wilfulness  common  to  all  selfish  na- 
tures, she  determined  to  arrange  the  matter  in  her  own  way. 
Sho  drove  away  alone  the  next  morning  to  the  post-office, 
with  a  letter  for  Joseph,  but  never  drew  rein  until  she  had 
reached  Coventry  Forge.  Philip  being  absent,  she  confided 
to  Madeline  Held  her  wish  (and  Lucy's)  that  they  should  all 
spend  an  afternoon  together,  on  the  banks  of  the  stream, — 
a  free  society  in  the  open  air  instead  of  a  formal  one  within 
doors.  Madeline  entered  into  the  plan  with  joyous  readi- 
ness, accepting  both  for  herself  and  for  Philip.  They  all  met 
together  too  rarely,  she  said  :  a  lunch  or  a  tea  under  the  trees 
would  be  delightful :  there  was  a  little  skiff  which  might  be 
borrowed,  and  they  might  even  catch  and  cook  their  own 
fish,  as  the  most  respectable  people  did  in  the  Adirondacks. 

Julia  then  drove  to  the  Hopetons  in  high  spirits.  Mr. 
Hopeton  found  the  proposed  party  very  pleasant,  and  said 
at  once  to  his  wife  :  "  We  have  still  three  days,  my  dear: 
we  can  easily  spare  to-morrow  ?  " 

"Mrs.  Asten  is  very  kind,"  she  replied j  "and  her  propo- 
sition is  tempting:  but  I  should  not  like  to  go  without  you, 
and  I  thought  your  business  might—-" 

"  O,  there  is  nothing  pressing,"  he  interrupted.  "  I  shall 
enjoy  it  exceedingly,  especially  the  boat,  and  the  chance  oi 
landing  a  few  trout." 


224  JOSEPH   AND  HIS  FRIEND. 

So  it  was  settled.  Lucy,  it  is  true,  felt  a  dissatisfactior 
which  she  could  scarcely  conceal,  and  possibly  did  not,  to 
Julia's  eyes ;  but  it  was  not  for  her  own  sake.  She  must 
seem  grateful  for  a  courtesy  meant  to  favor  both  herself  and 
her  friend,  and  a  little  reflection  reconciled  her  to  the  plan. 
Mrs.  Hopeton  dared  not  avoid  Philip  Held,  and  it  might  be 
well  if  she  carried  away  with  her  to  the  sea-shore  a  later  and 
less  alarming  memory  of  him.  Lucy's  own  desire  for  a  quiet 
talk  with  the  woman  in  whom  she  felt  such  a  loving  interest 
was  of  no  consequence,  if  this  was  the  resxilt. 

They  met  in  the  afternoon,  on  the  eastern  side  of  the 
stream,  just  below  the  Forge,  where  a  little  bay  of  level 
shore,  shaded  by  superb  trees,  was  left  between  the  rocky 
bluffs.  Stumps  and  a  long-fallen  trunk  furnished  them  with 
rough  tables  and  seats ;  there  was  a  natural  fireplace  among 
some  huge  tumbled  stones ;  a  spring  of  icy  crystal  gushed 
out  from  the  foot  of  the  bluff;  and  the  shimmering,  mur- 
muring water  in  front,  with  the  meadows  beyond  burning 
like  emerald  flame  in  the  sunshine,  offered  a  constant  delight 
to  the  senses. 

All  were  enchanted  with  the  spot,  which  Philip  and  Ma- 
deline claimed  as  their  discovery.  The  gypsy  spirit  awoke  in 
them,  and  while  they  scattered  here  and  there,  possessed  with 
the  influences  of  the  place,  and  constantly  stumbling  upon 
some  new  charm  or  convenience,  Lucy  felt  her  heart  grow 
light  for  her  friend,  and  the  trouble  of  her  own  life  subside. 
For  a  time  no  one  seemed  to  think  of  anything  but  the 
material  arrangements.  Mr.  H  peton's  wine-flasks  were 
laid  in  the  spring  to  cool ;  Philip  improvised  a  rustic  table 
upon  two  neighboring  stumps ;  rough  seats  were  made  com- 
fortable, dty  sticks  collected  for  fire-wood,  stores  unpacked 
»nd  placed  in  readiness,  and  every  little  preliminary  of 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  225 

* 

labor,  insufferable  in  a  kitchen,  took  on  its  usual  fascination 
in  that  sylvan  nook. 

Then  they  rested  from  their  work.  Mr.  Hopeton  and 
Philip  lighted  cigars  and  sat  to  leeward,  while  the  four 
ladies  kept  their  fingers  busy  with  bunches  of  maiden-hair 
and  faint  wildwood  blossoms,  as  they  talked.  It  really 
seemed  as  if  a  peace  and  joy  from  beyond  their  lives  had 
fallen  upon  them.  Madeline  believed  so,  and  Lucy  hoped 
so :  let  us  hope  so,  too,  and  not  lift  at  once  the  veil  which 
was  folded  so  closely  over  two  restless  hearts ! 

Mr.  Hopeton  threw  away  the  stump  of  his  cigar,  adjusted 
his  fishing-tackle,  and  said :  "  If  we  are  to  have  a  trout 
supper,  I  must  begin  to  troll  at  once." 

"  May  I  go  with  you  ?  "  his  wife  asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  smiling,  "  if  you  will  not  be  nervous. 
But  I  hardly  need  to  make  that  stipulation  with  you,  Emily." 

Philip  assisted  her  into  the  unsteady  little  craft,  which 
was  fastened  to  a  tree.  Mr.  Hopeton  seated  himself  care- 
fully, took  the  two  light,  short  oars,  and  held  himself  from 
the  shore,  while  Philip  loosened  the  rope. 

"  I  shall  row  up  stream,"  he  said,  "  and  then  float  back  to 
you,  trolling  as  I  come.  When  I  see  you  again,  I  hope  I 
can  ask  you  to  have  the  coals  ready." 

Slowly,  and  not  very  skilfully,  he  worked  his  way  against 
the  current,  and  passed  out  of  sight  around  a  bend  in  the 
stream.  Philip  watched  Mrs.  Hopeton's  slender  figure  as 
ahe  sat  in  the  stern,  listlessly  trailing  one  hand  in  the  water. 
"  Does  she  feel  that  my  eyes,  my  thoughts,  are  following 
her  ?  "  he  asked;  but  she  did  not  once  turn  her  head. 

"  Philip !  "  cried  Madeline,  "  here  are  three  forlorn  maid- 
ens,  and  you  the  only  Sir  Isumbras,   or  whoever  is  the 
proper  If  night !     Are  you  looking  into  the  stream,  expecting 
10* 


228  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FEIEND. 

• 

the  '  damp  wo  .nan '  to  arise  ?     She  only  rises  for  fishermen 
she  will  come  up  and  drag  Mr.  Hopeton  down.     Let  m« 
invoke  the  real  nymph  of  this  stream !  "     She  sang  : — 

"Babrinafair, 

Listen  where  thou  art  sitting 
Under  the  glassy,  cool,  translucent  wave, 

In  twisted  braids  of  lilies  knitting 
The  loose  train  of  thy  amber-dropping  hair ; 
Listen  for  dear  honor's  sake, 
Goddess  of  the  silver  lake, 
Listen  and  save  1 " 

Madeline  did  not  know  what  she  was  doing.  She  could 
not  remark  Philip's  paleness  in  the  dim  green  light  where 
:hey  sat,  but  she  was  struck  by  the  startled  expression  of 
us  eyes. 

"  One  would  think  you  really  expected  Sabrina  to  come," 
she  laughed.  "Miss  Henderson,  too,  looks  as  if  I  had 
frightened  her.  You  and  I,  Mrs.  Asten,  are  the  only  cool, 
unimaginative  brains  in  the  party.  But  perhaps  it  was  all 
owing  to  my  poor  voice  ?  Come  now,  confess  it !  I  don't 
expect  you  to  say, — 

4  Can  any  mortal  mixture  of  earth's  mould 
Breathe  such  divine,  enchanting  ravishment f '" 

<l  I  was  trying  to  place  the  song,"  said  Lucy ;  "  I  read  it 
once." 

"  If  any  one  could  evoke  a  spirit,  Madeline,"  Philip  re- 
plied, "  it  would  be  you.  But  the  spirit  would  be  no 
nymph ;  it  would  have  little  horns  and  hoofs,  and  you 
would  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  it  again." 

They  all  laughed  at  this,  and  presently,  at  Julia's  sugges- 
tion, arranged  the  wood  they  had  collected,  and  kindled  a 
fire.  It  required  a  little  time  and  patience  to  secure  a 
strong  blaze,  and  in  the  great  interest  which  the  task  called 
forth  the  Hopetons  were  forgotten. 


227 

At  last  Philip  stepped  back,  heated  and  half  stifled,  for  a 
breath  of  fresher  air,  and,  turning,  saw  the  boat  between 
the  trees  gliding  down  the  stream.  "  There  they  are  !  "  hfi 
jried ;  "  now,  to  know  our  luck  !  " 

The  boat  was  in  midstream,  not  far  from  a  stony  strip 
which  rose  above  the  water.  Mrs.  Hopeton  sat  musing  with 
her  hands  in  her  lap,  while  her  husband,  resting  on  his 
knees  and  one  hand,  leaned  over  the  bow,  watching  the  fly 
which  trailed  at  the  end  of  his  line.  He  seemed  to  be 
quite  unconscious  that  an  oar,  which  had  slowly  loosened 
itself  from  the  lock,  was  floating  away  behind  the  boat. 

"  You  are  losing  your  oars  !  "   Philip  cried. 

Mr.  Hopeton  started,  as  from  a  dream  of  trout,  dropped 
his  line  and  stretched  forward  suddenly  to  grasp  the  oar. 
Che  skifl'  was  too  light  and  unbalanced  to  support  the  mo- 
Lion.  It  rocked  threateningly ;  Mrs.  Hopeton,  quite  forget- 
ting herself,  started  to  her  feet,  and,  instantly  losing  her 
jquilibrium,  was  thrown  headlong  into  the  deeper  water. 
The  skiff  whirled  back,  turned  over,  and  before  Mr.  Hope- 
ton  was  aware  of  what  ^had  happened,  he  plunged  full  length, 
face  downwards,  into  the  shallower  current. 

It  was  all  over  before  Madeline  and  Lucy  reached  the 
bank,  and  Philip  was  already  in  the  stream.  A  few  strokes 
brought  him  to  Mrs.  Hopeton,  who  struggled  with  the  cur- 
rent as  she  rose  to  the  surface,  bxit  made  no  outcry.  No 
sooner  had  she  touched  Philip  than  she  seized  and  locked 
him  in  her  arms,  and  he  was  dragged  down  again  with  her. 
It  was  only  the  physical  clinging  to  life  :  if  some  feeble  re- 
cognition at  that  moment  told  her  whose  was  the  form  she 
held  and  made  powerless,  it  could  not  have  abated  an  atom 
of  her  frantic,  instinctive  force. 

Philip  felt  that  they  had  drifted  into  water  beyond  hig 


228  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

depth.  With  great  exertion  he  freed  his  right  arm  and 
sustained  himself  and  her  a  moment  at  the  surface.  Mrs. 
Hopeton's  head  was  on  his  shoulder ;  her  hair  drifted 
against  his  face,  and  even  the  desperation  of  the  struggle 
could  not  make  him  insensible  to  the  warmth  of  her  breast 
upon  his  own.  A  wild  thought  flashed  upon  and  stung  hie 
brain :  she  was  his  at  last — his  in  death,  if  not  in  life  ! 

His  arm  slackened,  and  they  sank  slowly  together.  Heart 
and  brain  were  illuminated  with  blinding  light,  and  the 
swift  succession  of  his  thoughts  compressed  an  age  into  the 
fragment  of  a  second.  Yes,  she  was  his  now :  clasping  him 
as  he  clasped,  their  hearts  beating  against  each  other,  with 
ever  slower  pulsations,  until  they  should  freeze  into  one. 
The  world,  with  its  wrongs  and  prejudices,  lay  behind  them; 
the  past  was  past,  and  only  a  short  and  painless  atonement 
intervened  between  the  immortal  possession  of  souls  !  Bet- 
ter that  it  should  end  thus :  he  had  not  sought  this  solution, 
but  he  would  not  thrust  it  from  him. 

But,  even  as  his  mind  accepted  it,  and  with  a  sense  of 
perfect  peace,  Le  heard  Joseph's  voice,  saying,  "We  must 
shape  our  lives  according  to  the  law  which  is  above,  not 
that  which  is  below  us."  Through  the  air  and  the  water,  on 
the  very  rock  which  now  overhung  his  head,  he  again  saw 
Joseph  bending,  and  himself  creeping  towards  him  with  out- 
stretched hand.  Ha !  who  was  the  coward  now?  And 
again  Joseph  spake,  and  his  words  were :  "  The  very  wrong 
that  has  come  upon  us  makes  God  necessary."  God?  Then 
how  would  God  in  his  wisdom  fashion  their  future  life  ? 
Must  they  sweep  eternally,  locked  in  an  unsevering  embrace, 
like  Paolo  and  Francesca,  around  some  dreary  circle  of 
hell  ?  Or  must  the  manner  of  entering  that  life  togethei 
be  the  act  to  separate  them  eternally  ?  Only  the  inevitable 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  229 

act  dare  ask  for  pardon ;  but  here,  if  not  will  or  purpose, 
was  at  least  submission  without  resistance !  Then  it  seemed 
to  him  that  Madeline's  voice  came  again  to  him,  ringing  like 
a  trumpet  through  the  waters,  as  she  sang : — 

"Listen  for  dear  honor's  sake. 

Goddess  of  the  silver  lake. 

Listen  and  Rave !  " 

He  pressed  his  lips  to  Mrs.  Hopeton's  unconscious  brow, 
his  heart  saying,  "  Never,  never  again !  "  released  himself  by 
a  sudden,  powerful  effort,  seized  her  safely,  as  a  practised 
swimmer ,  shot  into  light  and  air,  and  made  for  the  shallower 
side  of  the  stream.  The  upturned  skiff  was  now  within 
reach,  and  all  danger  was  over. 

Who  could  guess  that  the  crisis  of  a  soul  had  been  reached 
and  passed  in  that  breath  of  time  under  the  surface  ?  Julia's 
long,  shrill  scream  had  scarcely  come  to  an  end ;  Mr.  Hope- 
ton,  bewildered  by  his  fall,  was  trying  to  run  towards  them 
through  water  up  to  his  waist,  and  Lucy  and  Madeline 
looked  on,  holding  their  breath  in  an  agony  of  suspense. 
In  another  moment  Philip  touched  bottom,  and  raising  Mrs. 
Hopeton  in  his  arms,  carried  her  to  the  opposite  bank. 

She  was  faint  and  stunned,  but  not  unconscious.  She 
passively  allowed  Philip  to  support  her  until  Mr.  Hopeton, 
struggling  through  the  shallows,  drew  near  with  an  expres- 
sion of  intense  terror  and  concern  on  his  broad  face.  Then, 
breaking  from  Philip,  she  half  fell,  half  flung  herself  into 
his  arms,  laid  her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  and  burst  into  a 
fit  of  hysterical  weeping. 

Tears  began  to  run  down  the  honest  man's  cheeks,  and 
Philip,  turning  away,  busied  himself  with  righting  the  boat 
and  recovering  the  oars. 

"  O,  my  darling  1 "  said  Mi  Hopeton,  "  what  should  I  d< 
if  I  had  lost  you  ?  " 


230  JOSEPH   AND  HIS  FRIEND. 

"  Hold  me,  keep  me,  love  me  ! "  she  cried.  "  1  must  not 
leave  you  ! " 

He  held  her  in  his  arms,  he  kissed  her,  he  soothed  hei 
with  endearing  words.  She  grew  calm,  lifted  her  head,  and 
looked  in  his  eyes  with  a  light  which  he  had  never  yet  seen 
in  them.  The  man's  nature  was  moved  and  stirred :  hia 
lips  trembled,  and  the  tears  still  slowly  trickled  from  his 
eyes. 

"  Let  me  set  you  over ! "  Philip  called  from  the  stream. 
"The  boat  is  wet,  but  then  neither  of  us  is  dry.  We  have, 
fortunately,  a  good  fire  until  the  carriage  can  be  brought  for 
Mrs.  Hopeton,  and  your  wine  will  be  needed  at  once." 

They  had  no  trout,  nor  indeed  any  refreshment,  except 
the  wine.  Philip  tried  to  rally  the  spirits  of  the  party,  but 
Julia  was  the  only  one  who  at  all  seconded  his  efforts ;  the 
others  had  been  too  profoundly  agitated.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hopeton  were  grave ;  it  seemed  scarcely  possible  for  them 
to  speak,  and  yet,  as  Lucy  remarked  with  amazement,  the 
faces  of  both  were  bright  and  serene. 

"  I  shall  never  invoke  another  water-nymph,"  said  Made 
line,  as  they  were  leaving  the  spot. 

"  Yes  !  "  Philip  cried,  "  always  invoke  Sabrina,  and  the 
daughter  of  Locrine  will  arise  for  you,  as  she  arose  to-day.*1 

"That  is,  not  at  all?" 

«  No,"  said  Philip,  «  she  arose." 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  231 


CHAPTER  XXIL 

KANUCK, 

he  set  forth  upon  his  journey,  Joseph  had  enougb 
of  natural  shrewdness  to  perceive  that  his  own  personal 
interest  in  the  speculation  were  better  kept  secret.  The 
position  of  the  Amaranth  property,  inserted  like  a  wedge 
between  the  Fluke  and  Chowder  Companies,  was  all  the  geog- 
raphy he  needed ;  and  he  determined  to  assume  the  character 
of  a  curious  traveller, — at  least  for  a  day  or  two, — to  keep 
his  eyes  and  ears  open,  and  learn  as  much  as  might  be  possi- 
ble to  one  outside  the  concentric  "  rings "  of  oil  operations. 

He  reached  Corry  without  adventure,  and  took  passage  in 
the  train  to  Oil  City,  intending  to  make  the  latter  place  the 
starting-point  of  his  investigations.  The  car  was  crowded, 
and  his  companion  on  the  seat  was  a  keen,  witty,  red-faced 
man,  with  an  astonishing  diamond  pin  and  a  gold  watch- 
chain  heavy  enough  to  lift  an  anchor.  He  was  too  restless, 
too  full  of  "  operative"  energy,  to  travel  in  silence,  as  is  the 
universal  and  most  dismal  American  habit;  and  before  they 
passed  three  stations  he  had  extracted  from  Joseph  the 
facts  that  he  was  a  stranger,  that  he  intended  visiting  the 
principal  wells,  and  that  he  might  possibly  (Joseph  allowing 
the  latter  point  to  be  inferred)  be  tempted  to  invest  some- 
thing, if  the  aspects  were  propitious. 

"  You  must  be  sure  to  take  a  look  at  my  wells,"  said  the 
stranger ;  "  not  that  any  of  our  stock  is  in  the  market, — it  ifl 
never  offered  to  the  public,  unless  accidentally, — but  they 
will  give  you  an  illustration  of  the  magnitude  of  the  busineM, 


232  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND 

All  wells,  you  know,  sink  after  a  while  to  what  some  people 
call  the  normal  flowing  capacity  (we  oilers  call  it  *  the 
everidge  run'),  and  so  it  was  reported  of  ourn.  But  since 
we've  begun  to  torpedo  them,  it's  almost  equal  to  the  first 
tapping,  though  I  don't  suppose  it'll  hold  out  so  long." 

"  Are  the  torpedoes  generally  used  ? "  Joseph  asked,  in 
some  surprise. 

"  They're  generally  tried,  anyhow.  The  cute  fellow  who 
first  hit  upon  the  idea  meant  to  keep  it  dark,  but  the  oilers, 
you'll  find,  have  got  their  teeth  skinned,  and  what  they  can't 
find  out  isn't  worth  finding  out !  Lord !  I  torpedoed  my 
wells  at  midnight,  and  it  wasn't  a  week  before  the  Fluke 
was  at  it,  bustin'  and  bustin'  all  their  dry  auger-holes  !  " 

"  The  what  I "  Joseph  exclaimed. 

"  Fluke.  Queer  name,  isn't  it  ?  But  that's  nothing : 
we  have  the  Crinoline,  the  Pipsissaway,  the  Mud-Lark,  and 
the  Sunburst,  between  us  and  Tideoute." 

"  What  is  the  name  of  your  company,  if  I  may  ask  ?  " 

"  About  as  queer  as  any  of  'em, — the  Chowder." 

Joseph  started,  in  spite  of  himself.  "  It  seems  to  me  I 
have  heard  of  that  company,"  he  managed  to  say. 

"  O  no  doubt,"  replied  the  stranger.  "  'T  isn't  often 
quoted  in  the  papers,  but  it's  knoum.  I  'm  rather  proud  of 
it,  for  I  got  it  up.  I  was  boring — boss,  though — at  three 
dollars  a  day,  two  years  ago,  and  now  I  have  my  forty  thou- 
sand a  year,  *  free  of  income  tax,'  as  the  Insurance  Compa- 
nies say.  But  then,  where  one  is  lucky  like  the  Chowder,  a 
hundred  busts." 

Joseph  rapidly  collected  himself  while  the  man  was  speak- 
ing.  "  I  should  very  much  like  to  see  your  wells,"  he  said. 
"  Will  you  be  there  a  day  or  two  from  now  9  My  name  if 
Aston, — not  that  you  have  ever  heard  of  it  before," 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  233 

"  Shall  be  glad  to  hear  it  again,  though,  and  to  see  you," 
•aid  the  man.  "  My  name  is  Blenkinsop." 

Again  it  was  all  that  Joseph  could  do  to  restrain  his 
astonishment. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  the  President  of  the  Chowder  ?  "  he 
ventured  to  say. 

"  Yes,"  Mr.  Blenkinsop  answered,  "  since  it's  a  company. 
It  was  all  mine  at  the  start,  but  I  wanted  capital,  and  I  had 
to  work  'em." 

"  What  other  important  companies  are  there  near  j  ou  ?  " 

"  None  of  any  account,  except  the  Fluke  and  the  Depravity. 
They  flow  tolerable  now,  after  torpedoing.  To  be  sure,  there 
are  kites  and  catches  with  all  sorts  o'  names, — the  Penny- 
royal, the  Ruby,  the  Wallholler  (whatever  that  is),  and  the 
Amaranth, — ha,  ha  !  " 

"  I  think  I  have  heard  of  the  Amaranth,"  Joseph  mildly 
remarked. 

"  Lord  !  are  you  bit  already  ?  "  Mr.  Blenkinsop  exclaim- 
ed, fixing  his  small,  sharp  eyes  on  Joseph's  face. 

"  I — I  really  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"  No  offence :  I  thought  it  likely,  that's  all.  The  Am^. 
ranth  is  Kanuck's  last  dodge.  He  keeps  mighty  close,  but 
if  he  don't  feather  his  nest  in  a  hurry,  at  somebody's  ex- 
pense, I  ain't  no  judge  o'  men  !  " 

Joseph  did  not  dare  to  mention  the  Amaranth  again.  He 
parted  with  Mr.  Blenkinsop  at  Tarr  Farm,  and  went  on  to 
Oil  City,  where  he  spent  a  day  in  unprofitable  wanderings, 
and  then  set  out  up  the  river,  first  to  seek  the  Chowder 
wells,  and  afterwards  to  ascertain  whether  there  was  any 
perennial  beauty  in  the  Amaranth. 

The  first  thing  which  he  remarked  was  the  peculiar  topog- 
raphy of  the  region.  The  Chowder  property  was  a  sloping 


234  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

bottom,  gradually  rising  from  the  river  to  a  range  of  high 
hills  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  the  rear.  Just  above  this  point 
the  river  made  a  sharp  horseshoe  bend,  washing  the  foot  of 
the  hills  for  a  considerable  distance,  and  then  curving  back 
again,  with  a  second  tract  of  bottom-land  beyond.  On  the 
latter,  he  was  informed,  the  Fluke  wells  were  located.  The 
inference  was  therefore  irresistible  that  the  Amaranth  Com- 
pany must  be  the  happy  possessor  of  the  lofty  section  of  hills 
dividing  the  two. 

"  Do  they  get  oil  up  there  ?  "  he  asked  of  Blenkinsop'e 
foreman,  pointing  to  the  ragged,  barren  heights. 

"  They  may  get  skunk  oil,  or  rattle-snake  oil,"  the  man 
answered.  "  Them'll  do  to  peddle,  but  you  can't  fill  tanks 
with  'em.  I  hear  they've  got  a  company  for  that  place, — 
th'  Amaranth,  they  call  it, — but  any  place'll  do  for  derned 
fools.  Why,  look  'ee  here  !  We've  got  seven  hundred  feet 
to  bore  :  now,  jest  put  twelve  hundred  more  atop  o'  that,  and 
guess  whether  they  can  even  pump  oil,  with  the  Chowder 
and  Fluke  both  sides  of  'em  !  But  it  does  for  green  'uns,  as 
well  as  any  other  place." 

Joseph  laughed, — a  most  feeble,  unnatural,  ridiculous 
laugh. 

'Til  walk  over  that  way  to  the  Fluke,"  he  said.  "I 
should  like  to  see  how  such  things  are  managed." 

"  Then  be  a  little  on  your  guard  with  Kanuck,  if  you 
meet  him,"  the  man  good-naturedly  advised.  "  Don't  ask 
him  too  many  questions." 

It  was  a  hot,  wearisome  climb  to  the  timber-skeletons  on 
the  summit  (more  like  gibbets  than  anything  else),  which 
denoted  shafts  to  the  initiated  as  well  as  the  ignorant  eye. 
There  were  a  dozen  or  more,  but  all  were  deserted. 

Joseph  wandered  from  on)  to  the  other,  asking  hirrself 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  235 

as  he  inspected  each,  "  Is  this  the  splendid  speculation  ?  " 
What  was  there  in  that  miserable,  shabby,  stony  region,  a 
hundred  acres  of  which  would  hardly  pasture  a  cow,  whence 
wealth  should  come  ?  Verily,  as  stony  and  as  barren  were 
the  natures  of  the  men,  who  on  this  wretched  basis  built 
their  cheating  schemes ! 

A  little  farther  on  he  came  to  a  deep  ravine,  cleaving  the 
hills  in  twain.  There  was  another  skeleton  in  its  bed,  but 
several  shabby  individuals  were  gathered  about  it, — the 
first  sign  of  life  or  business  he  had  yet  discovered. 

He  hastened  down  the  steep  declivity,  the  warning  of  the 
Chowder  foreman  recurring  to  his  mind,  yet  it  seemed  so 
difficult  to  fix  his  policy  in  advance  that  he  decided  to  leave 
everything  to  chance.  As  he  approached  he  saw  that  the 
men  were  laborers,  with  the  exception  of  a  tall,  lean  indivi- 
dual, who  looked  like  an  unfortunate  clergyman.  He  had  a 
sallow  face,  lighted  by  small,  restless,  fiery  eyes,  which  re- 
minded Joseph,  when  they  turned  upon  him,  of  those  of  a 
black  snake.  His  greeting  was  cold  and  constrained,  and 
his  manner  said  plainly,  "  The  sooner  you  leave  the  better  I 
shall  be  satisfied." 

"  This  is  a  rough  country  for  walking,"  said  Joseph ; 
"  how  much  farther  is  it  to  the  Fluke  wells  ?  " 

**  Just  a  bit,"  said  one  of  the  workmen. 

Joseph  took  a  seat  on  a  stone,  with  the  air  of  one  who 
needed  rest.  "  This  well,  I  suppose,"  he  remarked,  *'  be- 
longs to  the  Amaranth  ?  " 

"  Who  told  you  so  ?  "  asked  the  lean,  dark  man. 

"  They  said  below,  at  the  Chowder,  that  the  Amaranth 
was  up  here." 

"Did  Blenkinsop  send  you  this  way?"  the  man  aakod 
again. 


236  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  Nobody  sent  me,"  Joseph  replied.  "  I  am  a  stranger, 
taking  a  look  at  the  oil  country.  I  have  never  before  been 
in  this  part  of  the  State." 

**  May  I  ask  your  name  ?  " 

"  Asten,"  said  Joseph,  unthinkingly. 

"  Asten !  I  think  I  know  where  that  name  belongs.  Let 
me  see." 

The  man  pulled  out  a  large  dirty  envelope  from  his 
breast-pocket,  ran  over  several  papers,  unfolded  one,  and 
presently  asked, — 

"  Joseph  Asten  ?  " 

"Yes."  (Joseph  set  his  teeth,  and  silently  cursed  his 
want  of  forethought.) 

"  Proprietor  of  ten  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  stock  in 
the  Amaranth  !  Who  sent  you  here  ?  " 

His  tone,  though  meant  to  be  calm,  was  fierce  and  mena 
cing.  Joseph  rose,  scanned  the  faces  of  the  workmen,  who 
listened  with  a  malicious  curiosity,  and  finally  answered, 
with  a  candor  which  seemed  to  impress,  while  it  evidently 
disappointed  the  questioner : — 

"  No  one  sent  me,  and  no  one,  beyond  my  own  family, 
knows  that  I  am  here.  I  am  a  farmer,  not  a  speculator.  I 
was  induced  to  take  the  stock  from  representations  which 
have  not  been  fulfilled,  and  which,  I  am  now  convinced, 
never  will  be  fulfilled.  My  habit  is,  when  I  cannot  get  the 
truth  from  others,  to  ascertain  it  for  myself.  I  presume 
you  are  Mr.  Kanuck  ?  " 

The  man  did  nob  answer  immediately,  but  the  quick, 
intelligent  glance  of  one  of  the  workmen  showed  Joseph 
that  his  surmise  was  correct.  Mr.  Kanuck  conversed  apart 
with  the  men,  apparently  giving  private  orders,  and  then 
said,  with  a  constrained  civility : — 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND.  237 

*  If  you  are  bound  for  the  Fluke,  Mr.  Asten,  I  will  join 
you,  I  am  also  going  in  that  direction,  and  we  can  talk  OB 
the  way." 

They  toiled  up  the  opposite  side  of  the  ravine  in  silence. 
When  they  had  reached  the  top  and  taken  breath,  Mr. 
Kamiek  commenced  : — 

"  I  must  infer  that  you  have  little  faith  in  anything  being 
realized  from  the  Amaranth.  Any  man,  ignorant  of  the 
technicalities  of  boring,  might  be  discouraged  by  the  external 
appearance  of  things ;  and  I  shall  therefore  not  endeavor  to 
explain  to  you  my  grounds  of  hope,  unless  you  will  agree  to 
join  me  for  a  month  or  two  and  become  practically  a<»- 
quainted  with  the  locality  and  the  modes  of  labor." 

"That  is  unnecessary,"  Joseph  replied. 

"You  being  a  farmer,  of  course  1  could  not  expect  it. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  think  I  can  appreciate  your, — disap- 
pointment, if  we  must  call  it  so,  and  I  should  be  willing, 
under  certain  conditions,  to  save  you,  not  from  positive  loss, 
because  I  do  not  admit  the  possibility  of  that,  but  from 
what,  at  present,  may  seem  loss  to  you.  Do  I  make  my 
meaning  clear?" 

"  Entirely,"  Joseph  replied,  "  except  as  to  the  conditions." 

"  We  are  dealing  on  the  square,  I  take  it  ?  " 

"Of  course." 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Kanuck,  "  I  need  only  intimate  to  you 
how  important  it  is  that  I  should  develop  our  prospects. 
To  do  this,  the  faith  of  the  principal  stockholders  must  not 
be  disturbed,  otherwise  the  funds  without  which  the  pros- 
pects cannot  be  developed  may  fail  me  at  the  critical 
moment.  Your  hasty  and  unintelligent  impressions,  if  ex- 
pressed in  a  reckless  manner,  might  do  much  to  bring  about 
such  a  catastrophe.  I  must  therefore  stipulate  that  you 


238  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

/ 

keep  such  impressions  to  yourself.  Let  me  speak  to  you 
as  man  to  man,  and  ask  you  if  your  expressions,  not  being 
founded  on  knowledge,  would  be  honest  ?  So  far  from  it, 
you  will  be  bound  in  all  fairness,  in  consideration  of  my 
releasing  you  and  restoring  you  what  you  have  ventured,  to 
adopt  and  disseminate  the  views  of  an  expert, — namely, 
mine." 

"Let  me  put  it  into  fewer  words,"  said  Joseph.  "You 
will  buy  my  stock,  repaying  me  what  I  have  disbursed,  if, 
on  my  return,  I  say  nothing  of  what  1  have  seen,  and  ex- 
press my  perfect  faith  (adopting  your  views)  in  the  success 
of  the  Amaranth?" 

"  You  have  stated  the  conditions  a  little  barely,  perhaps, 
but  not  incorrectly.  I  only  ask  for  perfect  fairness,  as  be- 
tween man  and  man." 

"  One  question  first,  Mr.  Kanuck.  Does  Mr.  Blessing 
know  the  real  prospects  of  the  Amaranth  ?  " 

"No  man  more  thoroughly,  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Asten. 
Indeed,  without  Mr.  Blessing's  enthusiastic  concurrence  in 
the  enterprise,  I  doubt  whether  we  could  have  carried  the 
work  so  far  towards  success.  His  own  stock,  I  may  say  to 
you, — since  we  understand  each  other, — was  earned  by  hia 
efforts.  If  you  know  him  intimately,  you  know  also  that 
he  has  no  visible  means  of  support.  But  he  has  what  is 
much  more  important  to  us, — a  thorough  knowledge  of 
men  and  their  means." 

He  rubbed  his  hands,  and  laughed  softly.  They  had  been 
walking  rapidly  during  the  conversation,  and  now  came  sud- 
denly upon  the  farthest  crest  of  the  hills,  where  the  ridge 
fell  away  to  the  bottom  occupied  by  the  Fluke  wells.  Both 
paused  at  this  point. 

"  On  the  square,  then !  "  said  Mr.  Kanuek,  offering  hia 


JOSEPH   AM)  HIS  FRIEND. 

hand.  "Tell  me  where  you  will  be  to-morrow  morning, 
Mid  our  business  can  be  settled  in  five  minutes.  You  will 
carry  out  your  part  of  the  bargain,  as  man  to  man,  when  you 
find  that  I  carry  out  mine." 

"Do  you  take  me  for  an  infernal  scoundrel?"  cried 
Joseph,  boiling  over  with  disgust  and  rage. 

Mr.  Kanuck  stepped  back  a  pace  or  two.  His  sallow  faca 
became  livid,  and  there  was  murder  in  his  eyes.  He  put 
his  hand  into  his  breast,  and  Joseph,  facing  him,  involunta- 
rily did  the  same.  Not  until  long  afterwards,  when  other 
experiences  had  taught  him  the  significance  of  the  move- 
ment, did  he  remember  what  it  then  meant. 

"  So  !  that's  your  game,  is  it  ?  "  his  antagonist  said,  hiss- 
ing the  words  through  his  teeth.  "  A  spy,  after  all !  Or  a 
detective,  perhaps  ?  I  was  a  fool  to  trust  a  milk-and-water 
face :  but  one  thing  I  tell  you, —  you  may  get  away,  but 
come  back  again  if  you  dare  !  " 

Joseph  said  nothing,  but  gazed  steadily  in  the  man's  eyes, 
and  did  not  move  from  his  position  so  long  as  he  was  within 
sight.  Then,  breathing  deeply,  as  if  relieved  from  the  dread 
of  an  unknown  danger,  he  swiftly  descended  the  hill. 

That  evening,  as  he  sat  in  the  bar-room  of  a  horrible 
shanty  (called  a  hotel),  farther  up  the  river,  he  noticed  a 
pair  of  eyes  fixed  intently  upon  him :  they  belonged  to  one 
of  the  workmen  in  the  Amaranth  ravine.  The  man  made 
an  almost  imperceptible  signal,  and  left  the  room.  Joseph 
followed  him. 

"  Hush  !  "  whispered  the  former.  "  Don't  come  back  to 
the  hill ;  and  get  away  from  here  to-morrow  morning,  if  you 
can  1 "  With  these  words  he  darted  off  and  disappeared  in 
the  darkness. 

The  counsel  was  unnecessary.     Joseph,  with  all  his  inax 


240  JOSEPH  AND  HIS   FK1KND. 

perience  of  the  world,  saw  plainly  that  his  only  alternative* 
were  loss  —  or  connivance.  Nothing  was  to  be  gained  by 
following  the  vile  business  any  further.  He  took  the  earli- 
est possible  train,  and  by  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day 
found  himself  again  in  the  city. 

He  was  conscious  of  no  desire  to  meet  Mr.  Blessing,  yet 
the  pressure  of  his  recent  experience  seemed  to  drive  him 
irresistibly  in  that  direction.  When  he  rang  the  bell,  it  was 
with  the  hope  that  he  should  find  nobody  at  home.  Mr. 
Blessing,  however,  answered  the  summons,  and  after  the  first 
repression  of  surprise,  ushered  him  into  the  parlor. 

"  I  am  quite  alone,"  he  said ;  "  Mrs.  Blessing  is  passing 
the  evening  with  her  sister,  Mrs.  Woollish,  and  Clementina 
is  still  at  Long  Branch.  I  believe  it  is  as  good  as  settled 
that  we  are  to  lose  her ;  at  least  she  has  written  to  inquire 
the  extent  of  my  available  funds,  which,  in  her  case,  is  tanta- 
mount to  —  very  much  more." 

Joseph  determined  to  avoid  all  digressions,  and  insist  on 
the  Amaranth  speculation,  once  for  all,  being  clearly  dis- 
cussed. He  saw  that  his  father-in-law  became  more  uneasy 
and  excited  as  he  advanced  in  the  story  of  his  journey,  and, 
when  it  was  concluded,  did  not  seem  immediately  prepared 
to  reply.  His  suspicions,  already  aroused  by  Mr.  Kanuck'a 
expressions,  were  confirmed,  and  a  hard,  relentless  feeling  of 
hostility  took  possession  of  his  heart. 

"I  —  I  really  must  look  into  this,"  Mr.  Blessing  stam- 
mered, at  last.  "  It  seems  incredible :  pardon  me,  but  I  would 
doubt  the  statements,  did  they  come  from  other  lips  than 
yours.  It  is  as  if  I  had  nursed  a  dove  in  my  bosom,  and 
unexpectedly  found  it  to  be  a  —  a  basilisk  !  " 

"  It  can  be  no  serious  loss  to  you,"  said  Joseph,  "  einot 
you  received  your  stock  iu  return  for  services." 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  241 

u  rhat  is  true :  I  was  not  thinking  of  myselfl  The  real 
sting  of  the  cockatrice  is,  that  I  have  innocently  misled  you." 

"Yet  I  understood  you  to  say  you  had  ventured  your 
all?" 

"  My  all  of  hope  —  my  all  of  expectation  !  "  Mr.  Blessing 
cried.  "  I  dreamed  I  had  overtaken  the  rainbow  at  last ; 
but  this  —  this  is  senna  —  quassia  —  aloes  !  My  nature  is 
so  confiding  that  I  accept  the  possibilities  of  the  future  as 
present  realities,  and  build  upon  them  as  if  they  were  Quin 
cy  granite.  And  yet,  with  all  my  experience,  my  acknow 
ledged  sagacity,  my  acquaintance  with  the  hidden  labyrinths 
of  finance,  it  seems  impossible  that  I  can  be  so  deceived ! 
There  must  be  some  hideous  misunderstanding:  I  have  cal- 
culated all  the  elements,  prognosticated  all  the  planetary  as- 
pects, so  to  speak,  and  ht./e  not  found  a  whisper  of  failure  !  " 

"  You  omitted  one  very  important  element,"  Joseph  said. 

"What  is  that?  I  might  have  employed  a  detective,  it 
is  true — ' 

"  No  !  "  Joseph  replied.     "  Honesty  !  " 

Mr.  Blessing  fell  back  in  his  chair,  weeping  bitterly. 

"  I  deserve  this  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  will  not  resent  it. 
I  forgive  you  in  advance  of  the  time  when  you  shall  recog- 
nize my  sincere,  my  heartfelt  wish  to  serve  you  !  Go,  go : 
let  me  not  recriminate !  I  meant  to  bb,  and  still  mean  to 
be,  your  friend  :  but  spare  my  too  confiding  child  !  " 

Without  a  word  of  good-by,  Joseph  took  his  hat  and  has- 
tened from  the  house.  At  every  step  the  abyss  of  dishonesty 
seemed  to  open  deeper  before  his  feet.  Spare  the  too  con- 
fiding child  !  Father  and  daughter  were  alike  :  both  mean, 
both  treacherous,  both  unpardonably  false  to  him. 

With  such  feelings  he  left  the  city  next  morning,  and 

made  his  way  homewards. 
11 


242  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 


CHAPTER  XXTTT. 

JULIANS     EXPERIMENT. 

IK  the  mean  time  the  Hopetons  had  left  for  the  sea-shore, 
and  the  two  women,  after  a  drive  to  Magnolia,  remained 
quietly  on  the  farm.  Julia  employed  the  days  in  studying 
Lucy  with  a  soft,  stealthy,  unremitting  watchfulness  which 
the  latter  could  not  suspect,  since,  in  the  first  place,  it  was  a 
faculty  quite  unknown  to  her,  and,  secondly,  it  would  have 
seemed  absurd  because  inexplicable.  Neither  could  she 
guess  with  what  care  Julia's  manner  and  conversation  were 
adapted  to  her  own.  She  was  only  surprised  to  find  so 
much  earnest  desire  to  correct  faults,  such  artless  transpa- 
rency of  nature.  Thus  an  interest  quite  friendly  took  the 
place  of  her  former  repulsion  of  feeling,  of  which  she  began 
to  be  sincerely  ashamed. 

Moreover,  Julia's  continual  demonstration  of  her  love  for 
Joseph,  from  which  Lucy  at  first  shrank  with  a  delicate 
tremor  of  the  heart,  soon  ceased  to  affect  her.  Nay,  it 
rather  seemed  to  interpose  a  protecting  barrier  between  her 
present  and  the  painful  memory  of  her  past  self.  She  be- 
gan to  suspect  that  all  regret  was  now  conquered,  and  rejoiced 
in  the  sense  of  strength  which  could  only  thus  be  made 
clear  to  her  mind.  Her  feeling  towards  Joseph  became  that 
of  a  sister  or  a  dear  woman  friend ;  there  could  be  no  harm 
in  cherishing  it ;  she  found  a  comfort  in  speaking  to  Julia 
of  his  upright,  unselfish  character,  his  guilelessness  and 
kindness  of  heart. 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  248 

The  work  upon  the  house  was  nearly  finished,  bnt  new 
and  more  alarming  bills  began  to  come  in ;  and  worse  was 
in  store.  There  was  a  chimney-piece,  "  the  loveliest  ivory 
veins  through  the  green  marble,"  Julia  said,  which  she  hac 
ordered  from  the  city ;  there  were  boxes  and  packages  of 
furniture  already  on  hand,  purchased  without  Joseph's 
knowledge  and  with  entire  faith  in  the  virtues  of  the  Ama- 
ranth. Although  she  still  clung  to  that  faith  with  a  des- 
perate grip,  the  sight  of  the  boxes  did  not  give  her  the  same 
delight  as  she  had  felt  in  ordering  them.  She  saw  the  ne- 
3essity  of  being  prepared,  in  advance,  for  either  alternative. 
It  was  not  in  her  nature  to  dread  any  scene  or  circum- 
stance of  life  (although  she  had  found  the  appearance 
of  timidity  very  available,  and  could  assume  it  admirably)  ; 
the  question  which  perplexed  her  was,  how  to  retain  and 
strengthen  her  ascendency  over  Joseph  ? 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  presence  of  Lucy  Henderson 
was  a  part  of  her  plan,  although  she  held  a  more  important 
service  in  reserve.  Lucy's  warm,  frank  expressions  of 
friendship  for  Joseph  gave  her  great  satisfaction,  and  she 
was  exhaustless  in  inventing  ways  to  call  them  forth. 

"  You  look  quite  like  another  person,  Lucy,"  she  would 
say ;  "I  really  think  the  rest  has  done  you  good." 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,"  Lucy  answered. 

"  Then  you  must  be  in  no  hurry  to  leave.  We  must  build 
you  up,  as  the  doctors  say ;  and,  besides,  if — if  this  specula- 
tion ehould  be  unfortunate — O,  I  don't  dare  to  think  of 
it ! — there  will  be  such  a  comfort  to  me,  and  I  am  sure  to 
Joseph  also,  in  having  you  here  until  we  have  learned  to 
bear  it.  We  should  not  allow  our  minds  to  dwell  on  it  so 
much,  you  know ;  we  should  make  an  exertion  to  hide  our 
disappointment  in  your  presence,  and  that  would  be  «ucA 


244  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FKIEND 

a  help  !  Now  you  will  say  I  am  borrowing  trouble,  bnt  do 
pray,  make  allowances  for  me,  Lucy !  Think  how  every 
thing  has  been  kept  from  me  that  I  ought  to  have  known !  " 

"  Of  course,  I  will  stay  a  little  while  for  your  sake,"  Lucy 
answered ;  "  but  Joseph  is  a  man,  and  most  men  bear  bad 
luck  easily.  He  would  hardly  thank  me  for  condoling  with 
him." 

"  0,  no,  no  !  "  Julia  cried  ;  "  he  thinks  everything  of  you  1 
He  was  so  anxious  for  you  to  come  here  !  he  said  to  me, 
'  Lucy  Henderson  is  a  noble,  true-hearted  girl,  and  you  will 
love  her  at  once,'  as  I  did,  Lucy,  when  I  first  saw  you,  but 
without  knowing  "why,  as  I  now  do." 

A  warm  color  came  into  Lucy's  face,  but  she  only  shook 
her  head  and  said  nothing. 

The  two  women  had  just  risen  from  the  breakfast-table  the 
next  morning,  when  a  shadow  fell  into  the  room  through  the 
front  window,  and  a  heavy  step  was  heard  on  the  stoL.e 
pavement  of  the  veranda.  Julia  gave  a  little  start  and 
shriek,  and  seized  Lucy's  arm.  The  door  opened  and  Joseph 
was  there.  He  had  risen  before  daybreak  and  taken  the 
earliest  train  from  the  city.  He  had  scarcely  slept  for  two 
nights ;  his  face  was  stern  and  haggard,  and  the  fatigue,  in- 
stead of  exhausting,  had  only  added  to  his  excitement. 

Julia  sprang  forward,  threw  her  arm  saround,  him,  and 
kissed  him  repeatedly.  He  stood  still  and  passively  endured 
the  caress,  without  returning  it ;  then,  stepping  forward,  he 
gave  his  hand  to  Lucy.  She  felt  that  it  was  cold  and  moist 
and  she  did  not  attempt  to  repress  the  quick  sympathy 
which  came  into  her  face  and  voice. 

Julia  guessed  something  of  the  truth  instantly,  and  nothing 
but  the  powerful  necessity  of  continuing  to  play  her  part  en- 
abled her  to  conceal  the  bitter  anger  whicL  the  contrast 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS    FBIEND.  245 

between  Joseph's  greeting  to  her  and  to  Lucy  aroused  in  hei 
heart.  She  stood  for  a  moment  as  if  paralyzed,  but  in  reality 
to  collect  herself;  then,  approaching  her  husband,  she  stam- 
mered forth :  "  O,  Joseph — I'm  afraid — I  don't  dare  to  ask 
you  what — what  news  you  bring.  You  didn't  write — I've 
been  so  uneasy — and  now  I  see  from  your  face — that  some- 
thing is  wrong." 

He  did  not  answer. 

"  Don't  tell  me  all  at  once,  if  it's  very  bad ! "  she  then 
cried  :  "  but,  no !  it's  my  duty  to  hear  it,  my  duty  to  bear 
it, — Lucy  has  taught  me  that, — tell  me  all,  tell  me  att,  thia 
moment !  " 

"  You  and  your  father  have  ruined  me :  that  is  alL" 

"  Joseph  !  "  The  word  sounded  like  the  essence  of  tender 
protest,  of  heart-breaking  reproach.  Lucy  rose  quietly  and 
moved  towards  the  door. 

"  Don't  leave  me,  Lucy  !  "  was  Julia's  appeal. 

"  It  is  better  that  I  should  go,"  Lucy  answered,  in  a  faint 
voice,  and  left  the  room. 

"  But,  Joseph,"  Julia  resumed ,  with  a  wild,  distracted  air, 
''  why  do  you  say  such  terrible  things  ?  I  really  do  not 
know  what  you  mean.  What  have  you  learned?  what  have 
you  seen  ?  " 

"  I  have  seen  the  Amaranth ! " 

"Well!     Is  there  no  oil?" 

"  O  yes,  plenty  of  oil !  "  he  laughed  ;  "  skunk  oil  and 
rattlesnake  oil!  It  is  one  of  the  vilest  cheats  that  the 
Devil  ever  put  into  the  minds  of  bad  men." 

"O,  poor  pa!"  Julia  cried;  "what  a  terrible  blow  to 
him!" 

" '  Poor  pa ! '  Yes,  my  discovery  of  the  cheat  is  a  terrible 
blow  to  '  poor  pa,' — he  did  not  calculate  on  its  being  found 


246  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

out  (to  boon.  When  I  learned  from  Kannck  that  all  the 
stock  he  hoi  Is  was  giv  3n  to  him  for  services, — that  is,  for 
getting  the  money  out  oi'  the  pockets  of  innocents  like  myself, 
— you  may  judge  how  much  pity  I  feel  for  poor  pa !  I  told 
him  the  fact  to  his  face,  last  night,  and  he  admitted  it." 

"  Then,"  said  Julia,  "  if  the  others  know  nothing,  he  maj 
be  able  to  sell  his  stock  to-day, — his  and  yours ;  and  we  may 
not  lose  much  after  all." 

"  I  should  have  sent  you  to  the  oil  region,  instead  of  going 
myself,"  Joseph  answered,  with  a  sneer.  "  You  and  Kanuck 
would  soon  have  come  to  terms.  He  offered  to  take  my 
stock  off  my  hands,  provided  Iwould  go  back  to  the  city 
and  make  such  a  report  of  the  speculation  as  he  would  die. 
tate." 

"  And  you  didn't  do  it  f  "  Julia's  voice  rose  almost  to  a 
scream,  as  the  words  burst  involuntarily  from  her  lips. 

The  expression  on  Joseph's  face  showed  her  that  she  had 
been  rash ;  but  the  words  were  said,  and  she  could  only 
advance,  not  recede. 

"  It  is  perfectly  legitimate  in  business,"  she  continued. 
"  Every  investment  in  the  Amaranth  was  a  venture, — every 
stockholder  knew  that  he  risked  losing  his  money  !  There 
is.  not  one  that  would  not  save  himself  in  that  way,  if  he 
had  the  chance.  But  you  pride  yourself  on  being  so  much 
better  than  other  men  !  Mr.  Chaffinch  is  right ;  you  have 
what  he  calls  a  '  moral  pride  ' !  You — " 

"  Stop !  "  Joseph  interrupted.  "  Who  was  it  that  pro- 
fessed such  concern  about  my  faith  ?  Who  sent  Mr.  Chaf- 
finch to  insult  me  ?  " 

"Faith  and  business  are  two  different  things:  all  the 
chx-rches  know  that.  There  was  Mr.  Sanctus,  in  the  city : 
he  subscribed  ten  thousand  dollars  to  the  Church  of  the 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FKIEND.  247 

Acceptance  :  he  couldn't  pay  it,  and  they  levied  on  his  pro- 
perty, and  sold  him  out  of  house  and  home  !  Really,  you 
are  as  ignorant  of  the  world  as  a  baby  !  " 

"  God  keep  me  so,  then  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  However,"  she  resumed,  after  a  pause,  "  since  you  insist 
on  our  bearing  the  loss,  I  shall  expect  of  your  moral  pride 
that  you  bear  it  patiently,  if  not  cheerfully.  It  is  far  from 
being  ruin  to  us.  The  rise  in  property  will  very  likely 
balance  it,  and  you  will  still  be  worth  what  you  were." 

"  That  is  not  all,"  he  said.  "  I  will  not  mention  my 
greatest  loss,  for  you  are  incapable  of  understanding  it ;  but 
how  much  else  have  you  saddled  me  with  ?  Let  me  have  a 
look  at  it !  " 

He  crossed  the  hall  and  entered  the  new  apartment,  Julia 
following.  Joseph  inspected  the  ceiling,  the  elaborate  and 
overladen  cornices,  the  marble  chimney-piece,  and  finally 
peered  into  the  boxes  and  packages,  not  trusting  himself  to 
speak  while  the  extent  of  the  absurd  splendor  to  which  she 
had  committed  him  grew  upon  his  mind.  Finally  he  said, 
striving  to  make  his  voice  calm,  although  it  trembled  in  his 
throat :  "  Since  you  were  so  free  to  make  all  these  pur- 
chases, perhaps  you  will  tell  me  how  they  are  to  be  paid 
for?" 

"  Let  me  manage  it,  then,"  she  answered.  "  There  is  no 
hurry.  These  country  mechanics  are  always  impatient, — 1 
should  call  them  impertinent,  and  I  should  like  to  teacb 
them  a  lesson.  Sellers  are  under  obligations  to  the  buyers, 
and  they  are  bound  to  be  accommodating.  They  have  so 
many  bills  which  are  never  paid,  that  an  extension  of  time 
is  the  least  they  can  do.  Why,  they  will  always  wait  a 
year,  two  years,  three  years,  rather  than  lose." 

"  I  suppose  so." 


248  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FBIEND. 

"Then,"  said  Julia,  deceived  bj  Joseph's  quiet  tone, 
"  their  profits  are  so  enormous,  that  it  would  only  be  fair  to 
reduce  the  bills.  I  am  sure,  that  if  I  were  to  mention  that 
you  were  embarrassed  by  heavy  losses,  and  press  them  hard, 
they  would  compromise  with  me  on  a  moderate  amount. 
You  know  they  allow  what  is  called  a  margin  for  losses, — 
pa  told  me,  but  I  forget  how  much, — they  always  expect  to 
lose  a  certain  percentage;  and,  of  course,  it  can  make  no 
difference  by  whom  they  lose  it.  You  understand,  don't 
you  ?  " 

"  Yes  :  it  is  very  plain." 

"  Pa  could  help  me  to  get  both  a  reduction  and  an  exten- 
sion of  time.  The  bills  have  not  all  been  sent,  and  it  will 
be  better  to  wait  two  or  three  months  after  they  have  come 
in.  If  the  dealers  are  a  little  uneasy  in  advance,  they 
will  be  all  the  readier  to  compromise  afterwards." 

Joseph  walked  up  and  down  the  hollow  room,  with  his 
hands  clasped  behind  his  back  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
floor.  Suddenly  he  stopped  before  her  and  said :  "  There  ia 
another  way." 

"  Not  a  better  one,  I  am  certain." 

"  The  furniture  has  not  yet  been  unpacked,  and  can  be 
returned  to  them  uninjured.  Then  the  bills  need  not  be 
paid  at  all." 

"  And  we  should  be  the  laughing-stock  of  the  neighbor- 
hood !  "  she  cried,  her  eyes  flashing.  "  I  never  heard  of  any- 
thing so  ridiculous !  If  the  worst  conies  to  the  worst,  you 
can  sell  Bishop  those  fifty  acres  over  the  hill,  which  he  standa 
ready  to  take,  any  day.  But  you'd  rather  have  a  dilapidated 
house, — no  parlor, — guests  received  in  the  dining-room  and 
the  kitchen, — the  Hopetons  and  your  friends,  the  Helds, 
•neering  at  us  behind  our  backs  !  And  what  would  youi 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

credit  be  worth?  "We  shall  not  even  get  trusted  for  gro- 
ceries at  the  village  store,  if  you  leave  things  as  they 
are ! " 

Joseph  groaned,  speaking  to  himself  rather  than  answering 
her  :  "  Is  there  no  way  out  of  this  ?  What  is  done  is  done ; 
shall  I  submit  to  it,  and  try  to  begin  anew  ?  or — " 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  Julia  turned  her  head, 
so  that  only  the  chimney-piece  and  the  furniture  could  see 
the  sparkle  of  triumph  in  her  eyes.  She  felt  that  she  had 
maintained  her  position ;  and,  what  was  far  more,  she  now 
clearly  saw  the  course  by  which  she  could  secure  it. 

She  left  the  room,  drawing  a  full  breath  of  relief  as  the 
door  closed  behind  her.  The  first  shock  of  the  evil  news  was 
over,  and  it  had  not  fallen  quite  so  heavily  as  she  had  feared. 
There  were  plenty  of  devices  in  store  whereby  all  that  was 
lost  might  be  recovered.  Had  not  her  life  at  home  been  an 
unbroken  succession  of  devices  ?  Was  she  not  seasoned  to 
all  manner  of  ups  and  downs,  and  wherefore  should  this  first 
failure  disconcert  her  ?  The  loss  of  the  money  was,  in  re- 
ality, much  less  important  to  her  than  the  loss  of  her  power 
over  Joseph.  Weak  as  she  had  supposed  him  to  be,  he  had 
shown  a  fierce  and  unexpected  resistance,  which  must  be  sup- 
pressed now,  or  it  might  crush  her  whole  plan  of  life.  I* 
seemed  to  her  that  he  was  beginning  to  waver:  should  she 
hasten  a  scheme  by  which  she  meant  to  entrap  him  intc 
submission, — a  subtle  and  dangerous  scheme,  which  must 
either  wholly  succeed,  or,  wholly  failing,  involve  her  in  its 
failure  ? 

Rapidly  turning  over  the  question  in  her  mind,  she  en- 
tered her  bed-room.     Locking  the  door,  she  walked  directly 
to  the  looking-glass ;  the  curtain  was  drawn  from  the  win- 
dow, and  a  strong  light  fell  upon  her  face. 
11* 


250  JOSEPH   AND   IIS   FRIEND. 

"This  will  never  do !  "  she  said  to  herself.  "  The  anxiety 
and  excitement  have  made  me  thin  again,  and  I  seem  to 
have  no  color."  She  unfastened  her  dress,  bared  her  neck, 
and  pushed  the  ringlets  behind  her  ears.  "  I  look  pinched ; 
a  little  more,  and  I  shall  look  old.  If  I  were  a  perfect  bru- 
nette or  a  perfect  blonde,  there  would  be  less  difficulty ;  but 
I  have  the  most  provoking,  unmanageable  complexion !  I 
must  bring  on  the  crisis  at  once,  and  then  see  if  I  can't  fill 
out  these  hollows." 

She  heard  the  front  door  opening,  and  presently  saw 
Joseph  on  the  lawn.  He  looked  about  for  a  moment,  with 
a  heavy,  bewildered  air,  and  then  slowly  turned  towards  thb 
garden.  She  withdrew  from  the  window,  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment, murmured  to  herself,  "  I  will  try,  there  cannot  be  a 
better  time  !  "  and  then,  burying  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
sobbing,  rushed  to  Lucy's  room. 

"O  Lucy!"  she  cried,  "help  me,  or  I  am  lost!  '  How 
can  I  tell  you  ?  it  is  harder  than  I  ever  dreamed  !  " 

"  Is  the  loss  so  very  serious, — so  much  more  than  you 
foared  ?  "  Lucy  asked. 

"Not  that— O,  if  that  were  all !  But  Joseph—"  Here 
Julia's  sobs  became  almost  hysterical.  "  He  is  so  cruel ;  1 
did  advise  him,  as  I  told  you,  for  his  sake,  and  now  he  says 
that  pa  and  I  have  combined  to  cheat  him  !  I  don't  think  he 
knows  how  dreadful  his  words  are.  I  WOT]  Id  sooner  die  than 
hear  any  more  of  them  !  Go  to  him,  Lucy ;  he  is  in  the 
garden  ;  perhaps  he  will  listen  to  you.  I  am  afraid,  and  I 
never  thought  I  should  be  afraid  of  him  I " 

"  It  is  very,  very  sad,"  said  Lucy.  "  But  if  he  is  in  suuh 
an  excited  condition  he  will  aurely  resent  my  coming. 
What  can  I  sjiy?" 

"  Say  onlj  what  you  heard  me  speak !      Tell  him  of  mj 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  251 

anxiety,  my  solf-reproach !  Tell  him  that  even  if  he  will 
believe  that  pa  meant  to  deceive  him,  he  must  not  believe 
it  of  me  !  You  know,  Lucy,  how  he  wrongs  me  in  hia 
thoughts ;  if  you  knew  how  hard  it  is  to  be  wionged  by  a 
husband,  you  would  pity  me  !  " 

"  I  do  pity  you,  Julia,  from  my  very  heart ;  and  the  proof 
of  it  is,  that  I  will  try  to  do  what  you  ask,  against  my  own 
sense  of  its  prudence.  If  Joseph  repels  my  interference,  I 
shall  not  blame  him." 

"  Heaven  bless  you,  Lucy !  He  will  not  repel  you,  he 
cannot !  "  Julia  sobbed.  "  I  will  lie  down  and  try  to  grow 
calm."  She  rose  from  the  bed,  upon  which  she  had  flung 
herself,  and  tottered  through  the  door.  When  she  had 
reached  her  own  room,  she  again  looked  at  her  image  in  the 
glass,  nodded  and  smiled. 

Lucy  walked  slowly  along  the  garden  paths,  plucking  a 
flower  or  two,  and  irresolute  how  to  approach  Joseph.  At 
last,  descending  the  avenue  of  box,  she  found  him  seated  in 
the  semicircular  enclosure,  gazing  steadfastly  down  the  val- 
ley, but  (she  was  sure)  not  seeing  the  landscape.  As  he 
turned  his  head  at  her  approach,  she  noticed  that  his  eye- 
lids were  reddened  and  his  lips  compressed  with  an  expres- 
sion of  intense  pain. 

"  Sit  down,  Lucy ;  I  am  a  grim  host,  to-day,"  he  said, 
with  a  melancholy  attempt  at  a  smile. 

Lucy  had  come  to  him  with  a  little  womanly  indignation, 
for  Julia's  sake,  in  her  heart ;  but  it  vanished  utterly,  and 
the  tears  started  into  her  eyes.  For  a  moment  she  found  it 
impossible  to  speak. 

"  I  shall  not  talk  of  my  ignorance  any  more,  as  I  onoe 
did,"  Joseph  continued.  "  If  there  is  a  class  in  the  school 
of  the  *rorld,  graded  according  to  experience  of  human 


252  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

meanness  and  treachery  and  falsehood,  I  ouglt  to  stand  a 
the  head." 

Lucy  stretched  out  her  hand  in  protest.  "  Do  not  speak 
so  bitterly,  Joseph ;  it  pains  me  to  hear  you." 

"  How  would  you  have  me  speak  ?  " 

"  As  a  man  who  will  not  see  ruin  before  him  because  a 
part  of  his  property  happens  to  slip  from  him, —  nay,  if  all 
were  lost !  I  always  took  you  to  be  liberal,  Joseph,  never 
careful  of  money  for  money's  sake,  and  I  cannot  understand 
how  your  nature  should  be  changed  now,  even  though  you 
have  been  the  victim  of  some  dishonesty." 

" '  Some  dishonesty ' !  You  are  thinking  only  of  money : 
what  term  would  you  give  to  the  betrayal  of  a  heart,  the 
ruin  of  a  life  ?  " 

"  Surely,  Joseph,  you  do  not,  you  cannot  mean  — " 

"  My  wife,  of  course.     It  needed  no  guessing." 

"  Joseph  !  "  Lucy  cried,  seizing  the  opportunity,  "  indeed 
you  do  her  wrong !  I  know  what  anxiety  she  has  suffered 
during  your  absence.  She  blamed  herself  for  having  ad- 
vised you  to  risk  so  much  in  an  uncertain  speculation, 
dreaded  your  disappointment,  resolved  to  atone  for  it,  if 
she  could  !  She  may  have  been  rash  and  thoughtless,  but 
she  never  meant  to  deceive  you.  If  you  are  disappointed 
in  some  qualities,  you  should  not  shut  your  eyes  and  refuse 
to  see  others.  I  know,  now,  that  I  have  myself  not  been 
fair  in  my  judgment  of  Julia.  A  nearer  acquaintance  has 
led  me  to  conceive  what  disadvantages  of  education,  for 
which  she  is  not  responsible,  she  is  obliged  to  overcome :  she 
sees,  she  admits  them,  and  she  will  overcome  them.  You, 
as  her  husband,  are  bound  to  show  her  a  patient  kind' 
ness  —  w 

"  Enough  1"  Joseph  interrupted;  "I  see  that  you  have 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FKLKND.  25S 

touched  pitch,  also.  Lucy,  your  first  instinct  was  right.  The 
woman  whom  I  am  bound  to  look  upon  as  my  wife  is  false 
and  selfish  in  every  fibre  of  her  nature ;  how  false  and  self- 
ish I  only  can  know,  for  to  me  she  takes  off  her  mask !  " 

"  Do  you  believe  me,  then  ?  "  Lucy's  words  were  slightly 
defiant.  She  had  not  quite  understood  the  allusion  to 
touching  pitch,  and  Joseph's  indifference  to  her  advocacy 
eeemed  to  her  unfeeling. 

"  I  begin  to  fear  that  Philip  was  right,"  said  Joseph,  not 
heeding  her  question.  "  Life  is  relentless  :  ignorance  or 
crime,  it  is  all  the  same.  And  if  God  cares  less  about  our 
individual  wrongs  than  we  flatter  ourselves  He  does,  what, 
do  we  gain  by  further  endurance  ?  Here  is  Lucy  Hender- 
son, satisfied  that  my  wife  is  a  suffering  angel ;  thinks  my 
nature  is  changed,  that  I  am  cold-hearted  and  cruel,  while 
I  know  Lucy  to  be  true  and  noble,  and  deceived  by  the  very 
goodness  of  her  own  heart !  " 

He  lifted  his  head,  looked  in  her  face  a  moment,  and  then 
went  on : — 

"  I  am  sick  of  masks  ;  we  all  wear  them.  Do  you  want 
to  know  the  truth,  Lucy  ?  When  I  look  back  I  can  see  it 
very  clearly,  now.  A  little  more  than  a  year  ago  the  on« 
girl  who  began  to  live  in  my  thoughts  was  you!  Don't 
interrupt  me :  I  am  only  speaking  of  what  was.  When  1 
went  to  Warriner's,  it  was  in  the  hope  of  meeting  you,  not 
Julia  Blessing.  It  was  not  yet  love  that  I  felt,  but  I  think 
it  would  have  grown  to  that,  if  I  had  not  been  led  away  bj 
the  cunningest  arts  ever  a  woman  devised.  I  will  not  spec 
ulate  on  what  might  have  been :  if  I  had  loved  you,  per 
haps  there  would  have  been  no  return  :  had  there  been,  3 
should  have  darkened  the  life  of  a  friend.  But  this  I  say 
I  honor  and  esteem  you,  Lucy,  and  the  loss  of  your  friend 


254  JOSEPH    AND   IIIS   FRIEND. 

ship,  if  I  now  lose  it,  is  another  evil  service  which  my  wife 
has  done  me." 

Joseph  little  suspected  how  he  was  torturing  Lucy.  She 
must  have  been  more  than  woman,  had  not  a  pang  of  wild 
regret  for  the  lost  fortune,  and  a  sting  of  bitter  resentment 
against  the  woman  who  had  stolen  it,  wrung  her  heart. 
She  became  deadly  pale,  and  felt  that  her  whole  body  was 
trembling. 

"  Joseph,"  she  said,  "  you  should  not,  must  not,  speak  so 
to  me." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  he  answered,  letting  his  head  sink  wea- 
rily ;  "  it  is  certainly  not  conventional ;  but  it  is  true,  for 
all  that !  I  could  tell  you  the  whole  story,  for  I  can  read 
it  backwards,  from  now  to  the  beginning,  without  misunder- 
standing a  word.  It  would  make  no  difference ;  she  is 
simple,  natural,  artless,  amiable,  for  all  the  rest  of  the 
world,  while  to  me — " 

There  was  such  despondency  in  his  voice  and  posture, 
that  Lucy,  now  longing  more  than  ever  to  cheer  him,  and 
yet  discouraged  by  the  failure  of  her  first  attempt,  felt 
sorely  troubled. 

"You  mistake  me,  Joseph,"  she  said,  at  last,  "if  you 
fliinlr  you  have  lost  my  friendship,  my  sincerest  sympathy. 
I  can  see  that  your  disappointment  is  a  bitter  one,  and  my 
prayer  is  that  you  will  not  make  it  bitterer  by  thrusting 
from  you  the  hopeful  and  cheer  ful  spirit  you  once  showed 
We  all  have  our  sore  trials." 

Lucy  found  her  own  words  very  mechanical,  but  they 
were  the  only  ones  that  came  to  her  lips.  Joseph  did  not 
answer ;  he  still  sat,  stooping,  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees, 
and  his  forehead  resting  on  his  palms. 

"  If  I  am  deceived  in  Julia,"  she  began  again,  "it  is  bet 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND.  25C 

tor  to  judge  too  kindly  than  too  harshly.  I  know  you  can- 
not change  your  sentence  against  her  now,  nor,  perhaps, 
very  soon.  But  you  are  bound  to  her  for  life,  and  you  must 
labor — it  is  your  sacred  duty — to  make  that  life  smoother 
and  brighter  for  both.  I  do  not  know  how,  and  I  have  no 
right  to  condemn  you  if  you  fail.  But,  Joseph,  make  the 
attempt  now,  when  the  most  unfortunate  experience  that  is 
likely  to  come  to  you  is  over ;  make  it,  and  it  may  chance 
that,  little  by  little,  the  old  confidence  will  return,  and  you 
will  love  her  again." 

Joseph  started  to  his  feet.  "  Love  her !  "  he  exclaimed, 
with  suppressed  passion, — "  love  her  !  I  hate  her  !  " 

There  was  a  hissing,  rattling  sound,  like  that  of  some 
fierce  animal  at  bay.  The  thick  foliage  of  two  of  the  tall 
box-trees  was  violently  parted.  The  branches  snapped  and 
gave  way  ;  Julia  burst  through,  and  stood  before  them. 


256  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FKIENIX 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

FATE. 

THE  fe.ce  that  so  suddenly  glared  upon  them  was  thai 
of  a  Gorgon.  The  ringlets  were  still  pushed  behind  her 
ears  and  the  narrowness  of  the  brow  was  entirely  revealed; 
her  eyes  were  full  of  cold,  steely  light;  the  nostrils  were 
violently  drawn  in,  and  the  lips  contracted,  as  if  in  a  spasm, 
so  that  the  teeth  were  laid  bare.  Her  hands  were  clenched, 
and  there  was  a  movement  in  her  throat  as  of  imprisoned 
words  or  cries ;  but  for  a  moment  no  words  came. 

Lucy,  who  had  started  to  her  feet  at  the  first  sound,  felt 
the  blood  turn  chill  in  her  veins,  and  fell,  rather  than  sank, 
upon  the  seat  again. 

Joseph  was  hardly  surprised,  and  wholly  reckless.  This 
eavesdropping  was  nothing  worse  than  he  already  .knew ; 
indeed,  there  was  rather  a  comfort  in  perceiving  that  he  had 
not  overestimated  her  capacity  for  treachery.  There  was 
now  no  limit ;  anything  was  possible. 

"  There  is  one  just  law,  after  all,"  he  said,  "  the  law  that 
punishes  listeners.  You  have  heard  the  truth,  for  once. 
You  have  snared  and  trapped  me,  but  I  don't  take 
to  my  captor  more  kindly  than  any  other  animal. 
From  this  moment  I  choose  my  own  path,  and  if  you 
still  wish  to  appear  as  my  wife,  you  must  adapt  your  life 
to  mine ! " 

"  You  mean  to  brazen  it  out,  do  you  !  "  Julia  cried,  in  a 
strange,  hoarse,  unnatural  voice.  "  That's  not,  so  easy ! 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  257 

I  have  not  listened  to  no  purpose  :  I  have  a  hold  upon  your 
precious  '  moral  pride  '  at  last  1 " 

Joseph  laughed  scornfully. 

"  Yes,  laugh,  but  it  is  in  my  hands  to  make  or  break  you  i 
There  is  enough  decent  sentiment  in  this  neighborhood  to 
crush  a  married  man  who  dares  to  make  love  to  an  unmar 
ried  girl !  As  to  the  girl  who  sits  still  and  listens  to  it, 
I  say  nothing ;  her  reputation  is  no  concern  of  mine  1 " 

Lucy  uttered  a  faint  cry  of  horror. 

"  If  you  choose  to  be  so  despicable,"  said  Joseph,  "  you 
will  force  me  to  set  my  truth  against  your  falsehood. 
Wherever  you  tell  your  story,  I  shall  follow  with  mine.  It 
will  be  a  wretched,  a  degrading  business ;  but  for  the  sake  of 
Lucy's  good  name,  I  have  no  alternative.  I  have  borne 
suspicion,  misrepresentation,  loss  of  credit,  —  brought  upon 
me  by  you,  —  patiently,  because  they  affected  only  myself; 
but  since  I  am  partly  responsible  in  bringing  to  this  house  a 
guest  for  your  arts  to  play  upon  and  entrap,  I  am  doubly 
bound  to  protect  her  against  you.  But  I  tell  you,  Julia, 
beware  !  I  am  desperate ;  and  it  is  ill  meddling  with  a  des- 
perate man  !  You  may  sneer  at  my  moral  pride,  but  you 
dare  not  forget  that  I  have  another  quality, — manly  self- 
respect, — which  it  will  be  dangerous  to  offend." 

If  Julia  did  not  recognize,  in  that  moment,  that  her 
subject  had  become  her  master,  it  was  because  the  real, 
unassumed  rage  which  convulsed  her  did  not  allow  her  to 
perceive  anything  clearly.  Her  first  impulse  was  to  scream 
and  shriek,  that  servant  and  farm-hand  might  hear  her,  and 
then  to  repeat  her  accusation  before  them ;  but  Joseph's  last 
words,  and  the  threatening  sternness  of  his  voice  withheld 
her. 

"  So  ?  "  she  said,  at  last ;  "  this  is  the  man  who  was  all 


258  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

truth,  and  trust,  and  honor !  With  you  the  proverb  seema 
to  be  reversed ;  it's  off  with  the  new  love  and  on  with  the 
old.  You  can  insult  and  threaten  me  in  her  presence! 
Well — go  on :  play  oiit  your  little  love-scene :  I  shall 
not  interrupt  you.  I  have  heard  enough  to  darken  my 
life  from  this  day  !  " 

She  walked  away  from  them,  up  the  avenue.  Her  dress 
was  torn,  her  arms  scratched  and  bleeding.  She  had  play- 
ed her  stake  and  failed, — miserably,  hopelessly  failed.  Her 
knees  threatened  to  give  way  under  her  at  every  step,  but 
she  forced  herself  to  walk  erect,  and  thus  reached  the  house 
without  once  looking  back. 

Joseph  and  Lucy  mechanically  followed  her  with  their 
eyes.  Then  they  turned  and  gazed  at  each  other  a  moment 
without  speaking.  Lucy  was  very  pale,  and  the  expression 
of  horror  had  not  yet  left  her  face. 

"She  told  me  to  come  to  you,"  she  stammered.  She 
begged  me,  with  tears,  to  try  and  soften  your  anger  against 
her ;  and  then — oh,  it  is  monstrous !  " 

"  Now  I  see  the  plan !  "  Joseph  exclaimed ;  "  and  I,  in 
my  selfish  recklessness,  saying  what  there  was  no  need  tc 
utter,  have  almost  done  as  she  calculated, — have  exposed 
you  to  this  outrage !  Why  should  I  have  recalled  the  past 
at  all  ?  I  was  not  taking  off  a  mask,  I  was  only  showing  a 
scar — no,  not  even  a  scar,  but  a  bruise ! — which  I  ought  to 
have  forgotten.  Forget  it,  too,  Lucy,  and,  if  you  can,  for- 
give me  1 " 

"  It  is  easy  to  forgive — everything  but  my  own  blind- 
ness," Lucy  answered.  "  But  there  is  one  thing  which  I 
must  do  immediately  :  I  must  leave  this  house !  " 

"  I  see  that,"  said  Joseph,  sadly.  Then,  as  if  speaking  to 
himself,  he  murmured:  "Who  knows  what  friends  will 


JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FKEEND.  269 

come  to  it  in  the  future  ?  Well,  I  will  bear  what  can  be 
borne ;  and  afterwards, — there  is  Philip's  valley.  A  fre«» 
outlaw  is  better  than  a  fettered  outlaw  !  " 

Lucy  feared  that  his  mind  was  wandering.  He  straight- 
ened himself  to  his  full  height,  drew  a  deep  breath,  and 
exclaimed :  "  Action  is  a  sedative  in  such  cases,  isn't  it  ? 
Dennis  has  gone  to  the  mill ;  I  will  get  the  other  horse 
from  the  field  and  drive  you  home.  Or,  stay  !  will  you  not 
go  to  Philip  Held's  cottage  for  a  day  or  two  ?  I  think  hia 
sister  asked  you  to  come." 

"  No,  no  !  "  cried  Lucy ;  "you  must  not  go  I  I  will  wait 
for  Dennis." 

"  No  one  must  suspect  what  has  happened  here  this  morn 
ing,  unless  Julia  compels  me  to  make  it  known,  and  I  don't 
think  she  will.  It  is,  therefore,  better  that  I  should  take 
you.  It  will  put  me,  I  hope,  in  a  more  rational  frame  of 
mind.  Go  quietly  to  your  room  and  make  your  prepara 
tions.  I  will  see  Julia,  and  if  there  is  no  further  scene 
now,  there  will  be  none  of  the  kind  henceforth.  She  is 
cunning  when  she  is  calm." 

On  reaching  the  house  Joseph  went  directly  to  his  wife's 
bed-room.  The  necessity  of  an  immediate  interview  could 
not  be  avoided,  since  Lucy  was  to  leave.  When  he  opened 
the  door,  Julia,  who  was  bending  over  an  open  drawer  of 
her  bureau,  started  up  with  a  little  cry  of  alarm.  She  closed 
the  drawer  hastily,  and  began  to  arrange  her  hair  at  the 
mirror.  Her  face  in  the  glass  was  flushed,  but  its  expres- 
sion was  sullen  and  defiant. 

"  Julia,"  he  said,  as  coolly  as  possible,  "  I  am  going  to 
take  Lucy  home.  Of  course  you  understand  that  she  can- 
not stay  here  an  hour  longer.  You  overheard  my  words  to 
b«wr,  and  you  know  just  how  much  they  were  worth.  ] 


260  JOSEPH   AND   HIS    FRIEND. 

expect  now,  that — for  yowr  sake  as  much  as  hers  or  mine-  - 
you  will  behave  towards  her  at  parting  in  such  a  way  that 
the  servants  may  find  no  suggestions  of  gossip  or  slander." 

u  And  if  I  don't  choose  to  obey  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  commanding.  I  propose  a  course  which  your 
own  mind  must  find  sensible.  You  have  '  a  deuced  sharp 
intellect,'  as  your  father  said,  on  our  wedding-day." 

Joseph  bit  his  tongue  :  he  felt  that  he  might  have  omitted 
this  sting.  But  he  was  so  little  accustomed  to  victory,  that 
he  did  not  guess  how  thoroughly  he  had  already  conquered. 

"  Pa  loved  me,  nevertheless,"  she  said,  and  burst  into 
tears. 

Her  emotion  seemed  real,  but  he  mistrusted  it. 

"  What  can  I  do  ?  "  she  sobbed :  "  I  will  try.  I  thought 
I  was  your  wife,  but  I  am  not  much  more  than  your  slave." 

The  foolish  pity  again  stole  into  Joseph's  heart,  although 
he  set  his  teeth  and  clenched  his  hands  against  it.  "  I  am 
going  for  the  horse,"  he  said,  in  a  kinder  tone.  "  When  I 
come  back  from  this  drive,  this  afternoon,  I  hope  I  shall 
find  you  willing  to  discuss  our  situation  dispassionately,  as 
I  mean  to  do.  We  have  not  known  each  other  fairly  before 
to-day,  and  our  plan  of  life  must  be  rearranged." 

It  was  a  relief  to  walk  forth,  across  the  silent,  sunny 
fields ;  and  Joseph  had  learned  to  accept  a  slight  relief  as 
A  substitute  for  happiness.  The  feeling  that  the  inevitable 
crisis  was  over,  gave  him,  for  the  first  time  in  months,  a 
sense  of  liberation.  There  was  still  a  dreary  and  painful 
task  before  him,  and  he  hardly  knew  why  he  should  be  so 
cheerful;  but  the  bright,  sweet  currents  of  his  blood  were 
again  in  motion,  and  the  weight  upon  his  heart  was  lifted 
by  some  impatient,  joyous  energy. 

The  tempting  vision  of  Philip's  valley,  which  had  haunted 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  261 

him  from  time  to  time,  faded  away.  The  angry  tumult 
through  which  he  had  passed  appeared  to  him  like  a  fever, 
and  he  rejoiced  consciously  in  the  beginning  of  his  spiritual 
convalescence.  If  he  could  simply  suspend  Julia's  active 
interference  in  his  life,  he  might  learn  to  endure  his 
remaining  duties.  He  was  yet  young;  and  how  much 
strength  and  knowledge  had  come  to  him — through  sharp- 
est pain,  it  was  true — in  a  single  year  !  Would  he  willingly 
return  to  his  boyish  innocence  of  the  world,  if  that  year 
could  be  erased  from  his  life?  He  was  not  quite  sure. 
Yet  his  nature  had  not  lost  the  basis  of  that  innocent 
time,  and  he  felt  that  he  must  still  build  his  future  years 
apon  it. 

Thus  meditating,  he  caught  the  obedient  horse,  led  him 
to  the  barn,  and  harnessed  him  to  the  light  carriage  which 
Julia  was  accustomed  to  use.  His  anxiety  concerning  her 
probable  demeanor  returned  as  he  entered  the  house.  The 
two  servant-women  were  both  engaged,  in  the  hall,  in  some 
sweeping  or  scouring  operation,  and  might  prove  to  be  very 
inconvenient  witnesses.  The  workmen  in  the  new  parlor — 
fortunately,  he  thought — were  absent  that  day. 

Lucy  Henderson,  dressed  for  the  journey,  sat  in  the 
dining-room.  "  I  think  I  will  go  to  Madeline  Held  for  a 
day  or  two,"  she  said ;  "  I  made  a  half-promise  to  visit  her 
after  your  return." 

"Where  is  Julia?" 

"  In  her  bed-room.  I  have  not  seen  her.  I  knocked  at 
the  door,  but  there  was  no  answer." 

Joseph's  trouble  returned.  "  I  will  see  her  myself,"  ht 
said,  sternly  ;  "  she  forgets  what  is  due  to  a  guest." 

"No,  I  will  go  again,"  Lucy  urged,  rising  hastily;  "per 
haps  she  did  not  hear  me." 


262  JOSEPH  AND   HIS  FRIEND. 

She  followed  him  into  the  hall.  Scarcely  had  he  set  hi* 
foot  upon  the  first  step  of  the  staircase,  when  the  bed-room 
door  above  suddenly  burst  open,  and  Julia,  with  a  shriek  of 
mortal  terror,  tottered  down  to  the  landing.  Her  face  was 
ashy,  and  the  dark-blue  rings  around  her  sunken  eyes  made 
them  seem  almost  like  the  large  sockets  of  a  skull.  She 
loaned  against  the  railing,  breathing  short  and  hard. 

Joseph  sprang  up  the  steps,  but  as  he  approached  her  she 
put  out  her  right  hand,  and  pushed  against  his  breast  with 
all  her  force,  crying  out :  "  Go  away !  You  have  killed 
me!" 

The  next  moment  she  fell  senseless  upon  the  landing. 

Joseph  knelt  and  tried  to  lift  her.  "  Good  God  I  she  ia 
dead  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  No,"  said  Lucy,  after  taking  Julia's  wrist,  "  it  is  only  a 
fainting  fit.  Bring  some  water,  Susan." 

The  frightened  woman,  who  had  followed  them,  rushed 
down  the  stairs. 

"  But  she  must  be  ill,  very  ill,"  Lucy  continued.  "  This 
is  not  an  ordinai-y  swoon.  Perhaps  the  violent  excitement 
has  brought  about  some  internal  injury.  You  must  send 
for  a  physician  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  And  Dennis  not  here  !  I  ought  not  to  leave  her  ;  what 
shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  Go  yourself,  and  instantly !  The  carriage  is  ready.  I 
will  stay  and  do  all  that  can  be  done  during  your  absence." 

Joseph  delayed  until,  under  the  influence  of  air  and 
water,  Julia  began  to  recover  consciousness.  Then  he  un- 
derstood Lucy's  glance, — the  women  were  present  and  she 
dared  not  speak, — that  he  should  withdraw  before  Julia 
could  recognize  him. 

He  did  not  spare  the  horse,  but  the  hilly  road  tried  his 


JOSEPH   AND   HT8   FJK1END.  262 

patience.  It  was  between  two  and  three  miles  to  tie  house 
of  the  nearest  physician,  and  he  only  arrived,  anxious  and 
breathless,  to  find  that  the  gentleman  had  been  called  away 
to  attend  another  patient.  Joseph  was  obliged  to  retrace 
part  of  his  road,  and  drive  some  distance  in  the  opposite 
direction,  in  order  to  summon  a  second.  Here,  however,  he 
was  more  fortunate.  The  physician  was  just  sitting  down  to 
un  early  dinner,  which  he  persisted  in  finishing,  assuring 
Joseph,  after  ascertaining  such  symptoms  of  the  case  as  the 
latter  was  able  to  describe,  that  it  was  probably  a  nervous 
attack,  "  a  modified  form  of  hysteria."  Notwithstanding  he 
violated  his  own  theory  of  digestion  by  eating  rapidly,  the 
minutes  seemed  intolerably  long.  Then  Ms  own  horse  must 
be  harnessed  to  his  own  sulky,  during  which  time  he  pre- 
pared a  few  doses  of  valerian,  belladonna,  and  other  pallia- 
tives, which  he  supposed  might  be  needed. 

Meanwhile,  Lucy  and  the  woman  had  placed  Julia  in  her 
own  bed,  and  applied  such  domestic  restoratives  as  they 
could  procure,  but  without  any  encouraging  effect.  Julia  ap- 
peared to  be  conscious,  but  she  shook  her  head  when  they 
spoke  to  her,  and  even,  so  Lucy  imagined,  attempted  to  turn 
it  away.  She  refused  the  tea,  the  lavender  and  ginger  they 
brought,  and  only  drank  water  in  long,  greedy  draughts.  In 
a  little  while  she  started  up,  with  clutchings  and  incoherent 
cries,  and  then  slowly  sank  back  again,  insensible. 

The  second  period  of  unconsciousness  was  longer  and 
more  difficult  to  overcome.  Lucy  began  to  be  seriously 
alarmed  as  an  hour,  two  hours,  passed  by,  and  Joseph  did 
not  return.  Dennis  was  despatched  in  search  of  him,  carry- 
ing also  a  hastily  pencilled  note  to  Madeline  Held,  and  then 
Lucy,  finding  that  she  could  do  nothing  more,  took  her  seat 
by  the  window  and  watched  the  lane,  counting  the  second^ 


264  JOSETTT    AND    HT8   FRIEND. 

one  by  one,  as  they  were  ticked  off  by  the  clock  ic 
the  hall. 

Finally  a  horse's  head  appeared  above  the  hedge,  where  it 
curved  around  the  shoulder  of  the  hill :  then  the  top  of  a 
carriage, — Joseph  at  last !  The  physician's  sulky  was  only 
a  short  distance  in  the  rear.  Lucy  hurried  down  and  met 
Joseph  at  the  gate. 

"  No  better, — worse,  I  fear,"  she  said,  answering  his 
look. 

"Dr.  Hartman,"  he  replied, — "Worrall  was  away  from 
home, — thinks  it  is  probably  a  nervous  attack.  In  that  case 
it  can  soon  be  relieved." 

"  I  hope  so,  but  I  fancy  there  is  danger." 

The  doctor  now  arrived,  and  after  hearing  Lucy's  report, 
shook  his  head.  "  It  is  not  an  ordinary  case  of  hysteria," 
he  remarked ;  "  let  me  see  her  at  once." 

When  they  entered  the  room  Julia  opened  her  eyes  lan- 
guidly, fixed  them  on  Joseph,  and  slowly  lifted  her  hand  to 
her  head.  "  What  has  happened  to  me  ?  "  she  murmured,  in 
a  hardly  audible  whisper. 

"  You  had  a  fainting  fit,"  he  answered,  "  and  I  have 
brought  the  doctor.  This  is  Dr.  Hartman;  yo  i  do  not 
know  him,  but  he  will  help  you ;  tell  him  how  you  feel, 
Julia ! " 

"  Cold  !  "  she  said,  "  cold  !  Sinking  down  somewhere  I 
Witt  he  lift  me  up  ?  " 

The  physician  made  a  close  examination,  but  seemed  to 
become  more  perplexed  as  he  advanced.  He  administered 
only  a  slight  stimulant,  and  then  withdrew  from  the  bedside. 
Lucy  and  the  servant  left  the  room,  at  his  request,  to  pre- 
pare some  applications. 

"  There  is  something  unusual  here,"  he  whispered,  dra^r- 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  265 

ing  Joseph  aside.  "  She  has  been  sinking  rapidly  since  the 
first  attack.  The  vital  force  is  very  low :  it  is  in  conflict 
with  some  secret  enemy,  and  it  cannot  resist  much  longer, 
unless  we  discover  that  enemy  at  once.  I  will  do  my  best  to 
save  her,  but  I  do  not  yet  see  how." 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  noise  from  the  bed.  Julia  was 
vainly  trying  to  rise :  her  eyes  were  wide  and  glaring. 
"  No,  no  !  "  came  from  her  lips,  "  I  will  not  die !  I  heard 
you.  Joseph,  I  will  try — to  be  different — but — I  must 
live— for  that !  " 

Then  her  utterance  became  faint  and  indistinct,  and  she 
relapsed  into  unconsciousness.  The  physician  re-examined 
her  with  a  grave,  troubled  face.  "She  need  not  be  con- 
scious," he  said,  "  for  the  next  thing  I  shall  do.  I  will  not 
interrupt  this  syncope  at  once ;  it  may,  at  least,  prolong  the 
struggle.  What  have  they  been  giving  her  ?  " 

He  picked  up,  one  by  one,  the  few  bottles  of  the  household 
pharmacy  which  stood  upon  the  bureau.  Last  of  all,  he 
found  an  empty  glass  shoved  behind  one  of  the  supports  of 
the  mirror.  He  looked  into  it,  held  it  against  the  light,  and 
was  about  to  set  it  down  again,  when  he  fancied  that  there 
was  a  misty  appearance  on  the  bottom,  as  if  from  some  deli- 
cate sediment.  Stepping  to  the  window,  he  saw  that  he  had 
not  been  mistaken.  He  collected  a  few  of  the  minute  gra- 
nulations on  the  tip  of  his  forefinger,  touched  them  to  his 
tongue,  and,  turning  quickly  to  Joseph,  whispered : — 

"  She  is  poisoned  !  " 

"  Impossible  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed ;  "  she  could  not  have 
been  so  mad  !  " 

"  It  is  as  I  tell  you !  This  form  of  the  operation  of 
arsenic  is  very  unusual,  and  I  did  not  suspect  it ;  but  now 
I  remember  that  it  is  noted  in  the  books.  Repeated  syn 
12 


266  JOSEPH   AMD   HIS   FRIEND. 

copes,  uttei  nervous  prostration,  absence  of  the  ordinary 
burning  and  vomiting,  and  signs  of  rapid  dissolution ;  it  fits 
the  case  exactly  1  If  I  had  some  oxy-hydrate  of  iron,  there 
might  still  be  a  possibility,  but  I  greatly  fear — " 

"  Do  all  you  can !  "  Joseph  interrupted.  "  She  must  have 
been  insane !  Do  not  tell  me  that  you  have  no  antidote  !  " 

"  We  must  try  an  emetic,  though  it  will  new  be  very 
dangerous.  Then  oil,  white  of  egg," — and  the  doctor  has- 
tened down  to  the  kitchen. 

Joseph  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  wringing  his 
hands.  Here  was  a  horror  beyond  anything  he  had  im- 
agined. His  only  thought  was  to  save  the  life  which  she,  in 
the  madness  of  passion,  must  have  resolved  to  take ;  she 
must  not,  must  not,  die  now;  and  yet  she  seemed  to  be 
already  in  some  region  on  the  very  verge  of  darkness,  some 
region  where  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  reach  and  pull  her 
back.  What  could  be  done  ?  Human  science  was  baffled ; 
and  would  God,  who  had  allowed  him  to  be  afflicted  through 
her,  now  answer  his  prayer  to  continue  that  affliction? 
But,  indeed,  the  word  "  affliction "  was  not  formed  in  his 
mind;  the  only  word  which  he  consciously  grasped  was 
"Life!  life!" 

He  paused  by  the  bedside  and  gazed  upon  her  livid  akin, 
her  sunken  features :  she  seemed  already  dead.  Then,  sink- 
ing on  his  knees,  he  tried  to  pray,  if  that  was  prayer  which 
was  the  single  intense  appeal  of  all  his  confused  feelings. 
Presently  he  heard  a  faint  sigh;  she  slightly  moved ;  con- 
sciousness was  evidently  returning. 

She  looked  at  him  with  half-opened  eyr«,  striving  to  fix 
upon  something  which  evaded  her  mind.  Then  she  said,  in 
the  faintest  broken  whisper :  "  I  did  love  you — I  did — and 
io — love  you  !  But — you — you  hate  me  I  " 


JCBEPII    AND    HIS   FKIEND.  267 

A  pang  sharper  than  a  knife  went  through  Joseph's 
heart.  He  cried,  through  his  tears :  "  I  did  not  know  whai 
I  said !  Give  me  your  forgiveness,  Julia !  Pardon  me,  not 
because  I  ask  it,  but  freely,  from  your  heart,  and  I  will 
bless  you  !  " 

She  did  not  speak,  but  her  eyes  softened,  and  a  phantom 
smile  hovered  upon  her  lips.  It  was  no  mask  this  time : 
she  was  sacredly  frank  and  true.  Joseph  bent  over  her 
and  kissed  her. 

"  O  Julia !  "  he  said,  "  why  did  you  do  it  ?  Why  did 
you  not  wait  until  I  could  speak  with  you  ?  Did  you  think 
you  would  take  a  burden  off  yourself  or  me  ?  " 

Her  lips  moved,  but  no  voice  came.  He  lifted  her  head, 
supported  her,  and  bent  his  ear  to  her  mouth.  It  was  like 
the  dream  of  a  voice : — 

"  I — did — not — mean — " 

There  it  stopped.  The  doctor  entered  the  room,  followed 
by  Lucy. 

u  First  the  emetic,"  said  the  former. 

"  For  God's  sake,  be  silent ! "  Joseph  cried,  with  his  ear 
still  at  Julia's  lips.  The  doctor  stepped  up  softly  and 
looked  at  her.  Then,  seating  himself  on  the  bed  beside 
Joseph,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  her  heart.  For  several  min- 
utes there  was  silence  in  the  room. 

Then  the  doctor  removed  his  hand,  took  Julia's  1  ead  out 
of  Joseph's  arms,  and  laid  it  softly  upon  the  pillow. 

She  was  dead. 


268  JOfiKPH    AND   HIS 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE    MOURNERS. 

"  IT  cannot  be !  "  cried  Joseph,  looking  at  the  doctor  •with 
an  agonized  face ;  "  it  is  too  dreadful ! " 

"  There  is  no  room  for  doubt  in  relation  to  the  cause.  I 
suspect  that  her  nervous  system  has  been  subjected  to  a 
steady  and  severe  tension,  probably  for  years  past.  This 
may  have  induced  a  condition,  or  at  least  a  temporary 
paroxysm,  during  which  she  was — you  understand  me — 
not  wholly  responsible  for  her  actions.  You  must  have 
noticed  whether  such  a  condition  preceded  this  catastro- 
phe." 

Lucy  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  and  back  to  the  livid 
face  on  the  pillow,  unable  to  ask  a  question,  and  not  yet 
comprehending  that  the  end  had  come.  Joseph  arose  at 
the  doctor's  words. 

"  That  is  my  guilt,"  he  said.  "  I  was  excited  and  angry, 
for  I  had  been  bitterly  deceived.  I  warned  her  that  her 
life  must  henceforth  conform  to  mine  :  my  words  werf, 
harsh  and  violent.  I  told  her  that  we  had  at  last  ascer- 
tained each  other's  true  natures,  and  proposed  a  serious  dis- 
cussion for  the  purpose  of  arranging  our  common  future, 
this  afternoon.  Can  she  have  misunderstood  my  meaning? 
It  was  not  separation,  not  divorce :  I  only  meant  to  a^oid 
the  miserable  strife  of  the  last  few  weeks.  Who  could  im 
agine  that  this  would  follow  ?  " 

Even  as  he  spoke   the    words    Joseph    remembered   the 


JOSEPH    AND   ins   FRIEND.  269 

tempting  fancy  which  had  passed  through  his  own  mind,— 
and  the  fear  of  Philip, — as  he  stood  on  the  brink  of  the 
rock,  above  the  dark,  sliding  water.  He  covered  his  face 
with  his  hands  and  sat  down.  What  right  had  he  to 
condemn  her,  to  pronounce  her  mad?  Grant  that  she  had 
been  blinded  by  her  own  unbalanced,  excitable  nature  rather 
than  consciously  false ;  grant  that  she  had  really  loved  him, 
that  the  love  survived  under  all  her  vain  and  masterful 
ambition, — and  how  could  he  doubt  it  after  the  dying 
words  and  looks  ?" — it  was  then  easy  to  guess  how  sorely 
she  had  been  wounded,  how  despair  should  follow  her  fierce 
excitement !  Her  words,  "  Go  away !  you  have  killed 
me  !  "  were  now  explained.  He  groaned  in  the  bitterness  of 
his  self-acciisation.  What  were  all  the  trials  he  had  endured 
to  this  ?  How  light  seemed  the  burden  from  which  he  waa 
now  free !  how  gladly  would  he  bear  it,  if  the  day's  word* 
and  deeds  could  be  unsaid  and  undone  ! 

The  doctor,  meanwhile,  had  explained  the  manner  of 
Julia's  death  to  Lucy  Henderson.  She,  almost  overcome 
with  this  last  horror,  could,  only  agree  with  his  conjecture, 
for  her  own  evidence  confirmed  it.  Joseph  had  forborne  to 
mention  her  presence  in  the  garden,  and  she  saw  no  need  of 
repeating  his  words  to  her ;  but  she  described  Julia's  con- 
rmlsive  excitement,  and  her  refusal  to  admit  her  to  her 
room,  half  an  hour  before  the  first  attack  of  the  poison. 
The  case  seemed  entirely  clear  to  both. 

"  For  the  present,"  said  the  doctor,  "  let  us  say  nothing 
about  the  suicide.  There  is  no  necessity  for  a  post-mortem 
examination :  the  symptoms,  and  thr  presence  of  arsenic  in 
the  glass,  are  quite  sufficient  to  establish  the  cause  of  death. 
You  know  what  a  foolish  idea  of  disgrace  is  attached  to 
families  here  in  the  country  when  such  a  thing  happens. 


270  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

and  Mr.  Asten  is  not  now  in  a  state  to  bear  much  more 
At  least,  we  must  save  him  from  painful  questions  until 
after  the  funeral  is  over.  Say  as  little  as  possible  to  him : 
he  is  not  in  a  condition  to  listen  to  reason :  he  believes  him- 
self guilty  of  her  death." 

"  What  shall  I  do  ? "  cried  Lucy :  "  will  you  not  stay 
until  the  man  Dennis  returns  ?  Mr.  Asten's  aunt  must  be 
fetched  immediately." 

It  was  not  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  Dennis  arrived, 
followed  by  Philip  and  Madeline  Held. 

Lucy,  who  had  already  despatched  Dennis,  with  a  fresh 
horse,  to  Magnolia,  took  Philip  and  Madeline  into  the 
dining-room,  and  hurriedly  communicated"  to  them  the  in- 
telligence of  Julia's  death.  Philip's  heart  gave  a  single 
leap  of  joy ;  then  he  compelled  himself  to  think  of  Joseph 
and  the  exigencies  of  the  situation. 

"  You  cannot  stay  here  alone,"  he  said.  "  Madeline 
must  keep  you  company.  I  will  go  up  and  take  care 
of  Joseph:  we  must  think  of  both  the  living  and  the 
dead." 

No  face  could  have  been  half  so  comforting  in  the  cham- 
ber of  death  as  Philip's.  The  physician  had,  in  the  mean 
time,  repeated  to  Joseph  the  words  he  had  spoken  to  Lucy, 
and  now  Joseph  said,  pointing  to  Philip,  "  Tell  Mm  every- 
-hing !  " 

Philip,  startled  as  he  was,  at  once  comprehended  the 
iituation.  He  begged  Dr.  Hartman  to  leave  all  further 
arrangements  to  him,  and  to  summon  Mrs.  Bishop,  the  wife 
<of  one  of  Joseph's  near  neighbors,  on  his  way  home.  Then, 
taking  Joseph  by  the  arm,  he  said  :  — 

"  Now  come  with  me.  We  will  leave  this  room  awhile 
to  Lucy  and  Madeline ;  but  neither  must  you  be  alone 


JOSEPH   AND  HIS  FRIEND.  271 

If  I  am  anything  to  you,  Joseph,  now  is  the  time  when 
my  presence  should  be  some  slight  comfort.  We  need  not 
speak,  but  we  will  keep  together." 

Joseph  clung  the  closer  to  his  friend's  arm,  without 
speaking,  and  they  passed  out  of  the  house.  Philip  led 
him,  mechanically,  towards  the  garden,  but  as  they  drew 
near  the  avenue  of  box-trees  Joseph  started  back,  crying 
out: — 

"  Not  there  !— O,  not  there  !  " 

Philip  turned  in  silence,  conducted  him  past  the  barn 
into  the  grass-field,  and  mounted  the  hill  towards  the  pin- 
oak  on  its  summit.  From  this  point  the  house  was  scarcely 
visible  behind  the  fir-trees  and  the  huge  weeping- willow, 
but  the  fair  hills  around  seemed  happy  under  the  tender 
sky,  and  the  melting,  vapory  distance,  seen  through  the 
southern  opening  of  the  valley,  hinted  of  still  happier  land- 
scapes beyond.  As  Joseph  contemplated  the  scene,  the  long 
strain  upon  his  nerves  relaxed  :  he  leaned  upon  Philip'a 
shoulder,  as  they  sat  side  by  side,  and  wept  passionately. 

"  If  she  had  not  died !  "  he  murmured,  at  last. 

Philip  was  hardly  prepared  for  this  exclamation,  and  he 
did  not  immediately  answer. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  better  for  me  to  talk,"  Joseph  continued. 
"  You  do  not  know  the  whole  truth,  Philip.  You  have 
heard  of  her  madness,  but  not  of  my  guilt.  What  was  it  I 
said  when  we  last  met  ?  I  cannot  recall  it  now ;  but  I 
know  that  I  feared  to  call  my  punishment  unjust.  Since 
then  I  have  deserved  it  all,  and  more.  If  I  am  a  child, 
why  should  I  dare  to  handle  fire  ?  If  I  do  not  understand 
life,  why  should  I  dare  to  set  death  in  motion  ?  " 

He  began,  and  related  everything  that  had  passed  since 
they  parted  on  the  banks  of  the  stream.  Ho  repeated  the 


272  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

words  that  had  been  spoken  in  the  house  and  in  the  garden, 
and  the  last  broken  sentences  that  came  from  Julia's  lips, 
Philip  listened  with  breathless  surprise  and  attention.  The 
greater  part  of  the  narrative  made  itself  clear  to  his  mind  ; 
his  instinctive  knowledge  of  Julia's  nature  enabled  him  to 
read  much  further  than  was  then  possible  to  Joseph ;  but 
there  was  a  mystery  connected  with  the  suicide  which  he 
could  not  fathom.  Her  rage  he  could  easily  understand ; 
her  apparent  submission  to  Joseph's  request,  however, — her 
manifest  desire  to  live,  on  overhearing  the  physician's  fears, 
— her  last  incomplete  sentence,  "  I — did — not — mean — 
indicated  no  such  fatal  intention,  but  the  reverse.  More- 
over, she  was  too  inherently  selfish,  even  in  the  fiercest 
paroxysm  of  disappointment,  to  take  her  own  life,  he  be- 
lieved. All  the  evidence  justified  him  in  this  view  of  her 
nature,  yet  at  the  same  time  rendered  her  death  more  inex- 
plicable. 

It  was  no  time  to  mention  these  doubts  to  Joseph.  Hi* 
only  duty  was  to  console  and  encourage. 

"  There  is  no  guilt  in  accident,"  he  said.  "  It  was  a  crisis 
which  must  have  come,  and  you  took  the  only  course  possi- 
ble to  a  man.  If  she  felt  that  she  was  defeated,  and  her 
mad  act  was  the  consequence,  think  of  your  fate  had  she  felt 
herself  victorious ! " 

"  It  could  have  been  no  worse  than  it  was,"  Joseph 
answered.  "  And  she  might  have  changed  :  I  did  not  give 
her  time.  I  have  accused  my  own  mistaken  education,  but 
I  had  no  charity,  no  pity  for  hers !  " 

When  they  descended  the  hill  Mrs.  Bishop  had  arrived, 
and  the  startled  household  was  reduced  to  a  kind  of  dreary 
order.  Dennis,  who  had  driven  with  speed,  brought  Rachel 
Miller  at  dusk,  and  Pliilip  and  Madeline  then  departed, 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FBIEND  273 

taking  Lucy  Henderson  with  them.  Rachel  was  tearful, 
but  composed  ;  she  said  little  to  her  nephew,  but  there  was 
a  quiet,  considerate  tenderness  in  her  manner  which  soothed 
him  more  than  any  words. 

The  reaction  from  so  much  fatigue  and  excitement  almost 
prostrated  him.  When  he  went  to  bed  in  his  own  guest- 
room, feeling  like  a  stranger  in  a  strange  house,  he  lay  for  a 
long  time  between  sleep  and  waking,  haunted  by  all  the 
scenes  and  personages  of  his  past  life.  His  mother's  face, 
so  faded  in  memory,  came  clear  and  fresh  from  the  shadows ; 
a  boy  whom  he  had  loved  in  his  school-days  floated  with 
fair,  pale  features  just  before  his  closed  eyes ;  and  around 
and  between  them  there  was  woven  a  web  of  twilights  and 
moonlights,  and  sweet  sunny  days,  each  linked  to  some  grief 
or  pleasure  of  the  buried  years.  It  was  a  keen,  bitter  joy,  a. 
fascinating  torment,  from  which  he  could  not  escape.  He 
was  caught  and  helplessly  ensnared  by  the  phantoms,  until, 
late  in  the  night,  the  strong  claim  of  nature  drove  them 
away  and  left  him  in  a  dead,  motionless,  dreamless  shimber. 

Philip  returned  in  the  morning,  and  devoted  the  day  not 
less  to  the  arrangements  which  must  necessarily  be  made  for 
the  funeral  than  to  standing  between  Joseph  and  the  awkward 
md  inquisitive  sympathy  of  the  neighbors.  Joseph's  con- 
tinued weariness  favored  Philip's  exertions,  while  at  the 
same  time  it  blunted  the  edge  of  his  own  feelings,  and 
helped  him  over  that  cold,  bewildering,  dismal  period,  dur- 
ing which  a  corpse  is  lord  of  the  mansion  and  controls  the 
life  of  its  inmates. 

Towards  evening  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blessing,  who  had  been 
summoned  by  telegraph,  made  their  appearance.  Clemen- 
tina did  not  accompany  them.  They  were  both  dressed  in 

mourning:  Mrs.  Blessing  was  grave  and  rigid,  Mr.  Blessing 
12* 


274  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FKIEND. 

flushed  and  lachrymose.     Philip   conducted  them  first   tt 
she  chamber  of  the  dead  and  then  to  Joseph. 

"  It  is  so  sudden,  so  shocking !  "  Mrs.  Blessing  sobbed 
•'  and  Julia  always  seemed  so   healthy !     What   have  you 
done  to  her,  Mr.  Asten,  that  she  should  be  cut  off  in  th« 
bloom  of  her  youth  ?  " 

"  Eliza  '  "  exclaimed  her  husband,  with  his  handkerchief  to 
his  eyes ;  "  do  not  say  anything  which  might  sound  like  a 
reproach  to  our  heart-broken  son  !  There  are  many  foes  in 
the  citadel  of  life  :  they  may  be  undermining  our — our  foun- 
dations at  this  very  moment !  " 

"  No,"  said  Joseph  ;  "  you,  her  father  and  mother,  must 
hear  the  truth.  I  would  give  all  I  have  in  the  world  if  I 
were  not  obliged  to  tell  it." 

It  was,  at  the  best,  a  painful  task;  but  it  was  made 
doubly  so  by  exclamations,  questions,  intimations,  which  he 
was  forced  to  hear.  Finally,  Mrs.  Blessing  asked,  in  a  tone 
of  alarm : — 

"  How  many  persons  know  of  this  ?  " 

"  Only  the  physician  and  three  of  my  friends,"  Joseph 
answered." 

"  They  must  be  silent !  It  might  ruin  Clementina's  pros- 
pects if  it  were  generally  known.  To  lose  one  daughter  and 
to  have  the  life  of  another  blasted  would  be  too  much." 

"  Eliza,"  said  her  husband,  "  we  must  try  to  accept  what- 
ever is  inevitable.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  no  more  recognize 
Julia's  usually  admirable  intellect  in  her — yes,  I  must  steel 
myself  to  say  the  word  ! — her  suicide,  than  I  recognized  her 
features  just  now !  unless  Decay's  effacing  fingers  have  already 
swept  the  lines  where  beauty  lingers.  I  warned  her  of  the 
experiment,  for  such  I  felt  it  to  be ;  yet  in  this  last  trying 
experience  I  do  not  complain  of  Joseph's  disappointment, 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  275 

and  his  temporary — I  trust  it  is  only  temporary — suspicion. 
We  must  not  forget  that  he  has  lost  more  than  we  have." 

"Where  is — "  Joseph  began,  endeavoring  to  turn  the 
conversation  from  this  point. 

"  Clementina  ?  I  knew  you  would  find  her  absence  un- 
accountable. We  instantly  forwarded  a  telegram  to  Long 
Branch  ;  the  answer  said,  '  My  grief  is  great,  but  it  is  quite 
impossible  to  come.'  Why  impossible  she  did  not  particu- 
larize, and  we  can  only  conjecture.  When  I  consider  hei 
age  and  lost  opportunities,  and  the  importance  which  a 
single  day,  even  a  fortunate  situation,  may  possess  for  her 
at  present,  it  seems  to  remove  some  of  the  sharpness  of  the 
serpent's  tooth.  Neither  she  nor  we  are  responsible  for 
Julia's  rash  taking  off;  yet  it  is  always  felt  as  a  cloud  which 
lowers  upon  the  family.  There  was  a  similar  case  among 
the  De  Belsains,  during  the  Huguenot  times,  but  we  never 
mention  it.  For  your  sake  silence  is  rigidly  imposed  upon 
us ;  since  the  preliminary — what  shall  I  call  it  ? — dis-har- 
mony  of  views  ? — would  probably  become  a  part  of  the  nar- 
rative." 

"  Pray  do  not  speak  of  that  now  ! "  Joseph  groaned. 

"Pardon  me;  I  will  not  do  so  again.  Our  minds  natu- 
rally become  discursive  under  the  pressure  of  grief.  It  is 
easier  for  me  to  talk  at  such  times  than  to  be  silent  and 
think.  My  power  of  recuperation  seems  to  be  spiritual  as 
well  as  physical ;  it  is  congenital,  and  therefore  exposes  me  to 
misconceptions.  But  we  can  close  over  the  great  abyss  of 
our  sorrow,  and  hide  it  from  view  in  the  depth  of  our  na- 
tures, without  dancing  on  the  platform  which  covers  it." 

Philip  turned  away  to  hide  a  smile,  and  even  Mrs.  Bless- 
ing exclaimed :  "  Really,  Benjamin,  you  are  talking  heart- 
lessly!" 


276  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  I  do  not  meaii  it  so,"  he  said,  melting  into  teAi-s,  "  but 
so  much  has  come  upon  me  all  at  once !  If  I  lose  my  buoy- 
ancy, I  shall  go  to  the  bottom  like  a  foundered  ship  !  I  was 
never  out  out  for  the  tragic  parts  of  life ;  but  there  are  char- 
acters who  smile  on  the  stage  and  weep  behind  the  scenes. 
And,  you  know,  the  Lord  loveth  a  cheerful  giver." 

He  was  so  touched  by  the  last  words  he  spoke,  that  he 
leaned  his  head  upon  his  arms  and  wept  bitterly. 

Then  Mrs.  Blessing,  weeping  also,  exclaimed :  "  O,  don't 
take  on  so,  Benjamin  ! " 

Philip  put  an  end  to  the  scene,  which  was  fast  becoming 
a  torment  to  Joseph.  But,  later  in  the  evening,  Mr.  Bless- 
ing again  sought  the  latter,  softly  apologizing  for  the  intru- 
sion, but  declaring  that  he  was  compelled,  then  and  there, 
to  make  a  slight  explanation. 

"  When  you  called  the  other  evening,"  he  said,  "  I  -was 
worn  out,  and  not  competent  to  grapple  with  such  an  unex- 
pected revelation  of  villany.  I  had  been  as  ignorant  of 
Kanuck's  real  character  as  you  were.  All  our  experience 
of  the  world  is  sometimes  at  fault ;  but  where  the  Reverend 
Dr.  Lellifant  was  first  deceived,  my  own  case  does  not  see«n 
so  flagrant.  Your  early  information,  however,  enabled  n«e 
(through  third  parties)  to  secure  a  partial  sale  of  the  stock 
held  by  yourself  and  me, — at  something  of  a  sacrifice,  it  Is 
true ;  but  I  prefer  not  to  dissociate  myself  entirely  from  tfre 
enterprise.  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  move  than  the  merest 
tyro  in  geology  ;  nevertheless,  as  I  lay  awake  last  night, — 
being,  of  course,  unable  to  sleep  after  the  shock  of  the  tele- 
gram,— I  sought  relief  in  random  scientific  fancies.  It  oc- 
curred to  me  that  since  the  main  Chowder  wells  are  '  spout- 
ing,' their  source  or  reservoir  must  be  considerably  higher 
than  the  surface.  Why  might  not  that  source  be  found  u0  ' 


JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FRIEND.  277 

der  the  hills  of  the  Amaranth  ?  If  so,  the  Chowder  would 
be  tapped  at  the  fountaiu-head  and  the  flow  of  Pactolean 
grease  would  be  ours  !  When  I  return  to  the  city  I  shall 
need  instantly — after  the  fearful  revelations  of  to-day — some 
violently  absorbing  occupation ;  and  what  could  be  more  ap 
propriate  ?  If  anything  could  give  repose  to  Julia's  unhappy 
shade,  it  would  be  the  knowledge  that  her  faith  in  the  Ama- 
ranth was  at  last  justified  !  I  do  not  presume  to  awaken 
your  confidence  :  it  has  been  too  deeply  shaken ;  all  I  ask  is, 
that  I  may  have  the  charge  of  your  shares,  in  order — without 
calling  upon  you  for  the  expenditure  of  another  cent,  you 
understand — to  rig  a  jury-mast  on  the  wreck,  and,  D.  V., 
float  safely  into  port !  " 

"  Why  should  I  refuse  to  trust  you  with  what  is  already 
worthless  ?  "  said  Joseph. 

"  I  will  admit  even  that,  if  you  desire.  '  Exitus  actaprobatj 
was  Washington's  motto ;  but  I  don't  consider  that  we  have 
yet  reached  the  exitus!  Thank  you,  Joseph  !  Your  question 
has  hardly  the  air  of  returning  confidence,  but  I  will  force 
myself  to  consider  it  as  such,  and  my  labor  will  be  to  deserve 
it." 

He  wrung  Joseph's  hand,  shed  a  few  more  tears,  and  be- 
took himself  to  his  wife's  chamber.  "  Eliza,  let  us  be  calm : 
we  never  know  our  strength  until  it  has  been  tried,"  he 
said  to  her,  as  he  opened  his  portmanteau  and  took  from  it 
the  wicker-covered  flask. 

Then  came  the  weariest  and  dreariest  day  of  a1), — when  the 
house  must  be  thrown  open  to  the  world  ;  when  in  one  room 
tho  corpse  must  be  displayed  for  solemn  stares  and  whispered 
comments,  while  in  another  the  preparation  of  the  funeral 
meats  absorbs  all  the  interest  of  half  a  dozen  busy  women  ; 
when  the  nearest  relatives  of  the  dead  sit  together  in  a  room 


278  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

I 

up-stairs,  hungering  only  for  the  consolations  of  loneliness  and 
silence  ;  when  all  talk  under  their  voices,  and  uncomfortably 
fulfil  what  they  believe  to  be  their  solemn  duty  ;  and  wh.ec 
even  Nature  is  changed  to  all  eyes,  and  the  mysterious  gloom 
of  an  eclipse  seems  to  fall  from  the  most  unclouded  sun. 

There  was  a  general  gathering  of  xhe  neighbors  from  far 
and  near.  The  impression  seemed  to  be — and  Philip  was 
ready  to  substantiate  it  — that  Julia  had  died  in  consequence 
of  a  violent  convulsive  spasm,  which  some  attributed  to  one 
cause  and  some  to  another. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Chaffinch  made  his  way,  as  by  right,  to  the 
chamber  of  the  mourners.  Rachel  Miller  was  comforted  in 
seeing  him,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blessing  sadly  courteous,  and 
Joseph  strengthened  himself  to  endure  with  patience  what 
might  follow.  After  a  few  introductory,  words,  and  a  long 
prayer,  the  clergyman  addressed  himself  to  each,  in  turn, 
with  questions  or  remarks  which  indicated  a  fierce  necessity 
of  resignation. 

"  I  feel  for  you,  brother,"  he  said,  as  he  reached  Joseph 
and  bent  over  his  chair.  "  It  is  an  inscrutable  visitation, 
but  I  trust  you  submit,  in  all  obedience  V  " 

Joseph  bowed  silently. 

"  He  has  many  ways  of  searching  the  heart,"  Mr.  Chaf- 
finch continued.  "  Your  one  precious  comfort  must  be  that 
she  believed,  and  that  she  is  now  in  glory.  O,  if  you  would 
but  resolve  to  follow  in  her  footsteps  !  He  shows  His  love, 
in  that  He  chastens  you  :  it  is  a  stretching  out  of  His  hand, 
a  visible  offer  of  acceptance,  this  on  one  side,  and  the  lesson 
of  our  perishing  mortality  on  the  other  I  Do  you  not  feel 
your  heart  a\*  fully  and  tenderly  Tioved  to  approach  Him  ?  " 

Joseph  sat,  with  bowed  head,  listening  to  the  smooth, 
unctuous,  dismal  voice  at  his  ear,  until  the  tension  of  hi* 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 
\ 

owves  became  a  positive  physical  pain.  He  longed  to  en 
aloud,  to  spring  up  and  ru*  h  away ;  his  heart  was  moved, 
but  not  awfully  and  tenderly.  It  had  been  yearning  towards 
the  pure  Divine  Light  in  which  all  confusions  of  the  soul  aro 
disentangled  ;  but  now  some  opaque  foreign  substance  inter- 
vened, and  drove  him  back  upon  himself.  How  long  the 
torture  lasted  he  did  not  know.  He  spake  no  word,  and 
made  no  further  sign.  ' 

Then  Philip  took  him  and  Rachel  Miller  down,  for  the 
last  conventional  look  at  the  stony,  sunken  face.  He  was 
seated  here  and  led  there ;  he  was  dimly  conscious  of  a 
crowd,  of  murmurs  and  steadfast  faces;  he  heard  some 
one  whisper,  "  How  dreadfully  pale  he  looks !  "  and  won- 
dered whether  the  words  could  possibly  refer  to  him.  Then 
there  was  the  welcome  air  and  the  sunshine,  and  Dennis 
driving  them  slowly  down  the  lane,  following  a  gloomy 
vehicle,  in  which  something — not  surely  the  Julia  whom  he 
knew — was  carried. 

He  recalled  but  one  other  such  stupor  of  the  senses  : 
it  was  during  the  performance  of  the  marriage  ceremony. 

But  the  longest  day  wears  out  at  last ;  and  when  night 
came  only  Philip  was  beside  him.  The  Blessings  had  been 
senfc  to  Oakland  Station  for  the  evening  train  to  tb.e  city, 
and  Joseph's  shares  in  the  Amaranth  Company  were  in  their 
portmanteau. 


280  JOSEPH    AND    HIS 


CHAPTER    XXVL 

THE    ACCUSATION. 

FOR  a  few  days  it  almost  seemed  to  Joseph  that  the 
old  order  of  his  existence  had  been  suddenly  restored,  and 
the  year  of  his  betrothal  and  marriage  had  somehow  been  in- 
tercalated into  his  life  simply  as  a  test  and  trial.  Rachel 
Miller  was  back  again,  in  her  old  capacity,  and  he  did  not 
yet  see — what  would  have  been  plain  to  any  other  eyes — 
that  her  manner  towards  him  was  far  more  respectful  and 
3onsiderate  than  formerly.  But,  in  fact,  she  made  a  wide 
distinction  between  the  "boy"  that  he  had  been  and  the 
man  and  widower  which  he  had  come  to  be.  At  first,  she 
had  refused  to  see  the  dividing  line :  having  crossed  it,  her 
new  course  soon  became  as  natural  and  fixed  as  the  old. 
She  was  the  very  type  of  a  mechanically  developed  old 
maid, — inflexibly  stern  towards  male  youth,  devotedly  obe- 
dient to  male  maturity. 

Joseph  had  been  too  profoundly  moved  to  lose  at  once  the 
sense  of  horror  which  the  manner  of  Julia's  death  had  left 
in  his  heart.  He  could  not  forgive  himself  for  having, 
though  never  so  ignorantly,  driven  her  to  madness.  He 
was  troubled,  restless,  unhappy  ;  and  the  mention  of  his  loss 
was  so  painful  that  he  made  every  effort  to  avoid  hearing  it. 
Some  of  his  neighbors,  he  imagined,  were  improperly  curi- 
ous in  their  inquiries.  He  felt  bound,  since  the  doctor  had 
suggested  it,  since  Philip  and  Lucy  had  acquiesced,  and  Mrs. 
Blessing  had  expressed  so  much  alarm  lest  it  might  becom* 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  881 

Known,  to  keep  the  suicide  a  secret;  but  he  was  driven  so 
elosely  by  questions  and  remarks  that  his  task  became  more 
and  more  difficult. 

Had  the  people  taken  offence  at  his  reticence?  It  seemed 
>o;  for  their  manner  towards  him  was  certainly  changed. 
Something  in  the  look  and  voice ;  an  indefinable  uneasiness 
at  meeting  him  ;  an  awkward  haste  and  lame  excuses  for  it, — 
all  these  things  forced  themselves  upon  his  mind.  Elwood 
Withers,  alone,  met  him  as  of  old,  with  even  a  tenderer 
though  a  more  delicately  veiled  affection ;  yet  in  Elwood'a 
face  he  detected  the  signs  of  a  grave  trouble.  It  could  not 
be  possible,  he  thought,  that  Elwood  had  heard  some  sur 
mise,  or  distorted  echo,  of  his  words  to  Lucy  in  the  gar- 
den,— that  there  had  been  another  listener  besides  Julia  1 

There  were  times,  again,  when  he  doubted  all  these  signs, 
when  he  ascribed  them  to  his  own  disturbed  mind,  and  de- 
cided to  banish  them  from  his  memory.  He  would  stay 
quietly  at  home,  he  resolved,  and  grow  into  a  healthier 
mood:  he  would  avoid  the  society  of  men,  until  he  should 
cease. to  wrong  them  by  his  suspicions. 

First,  however,  he  would  see  Philip;  but  on  reaching 
the  Forge  he  found  Philip  absent.  Madeline  received  him 
with  a  subdued  kindness  in  which  he  felt  her  sympathy ; 
but  it  was  also  deeper,  he  acknowledged  to  himself,  than  he 
had  any  right  to  claim. 

"  You  do  not  see  much  of  your  neighbors,  I  think,  MY. 
A-sten?"  she  asked.  The  tone  of  her  voice  indicated  a 
flight  embarrassment. 

"  No,"  he  answered  ;  "  I  have  no  wish  to  see  any  but  my 
friends." 

"  Lucy  Henderson  has  just  left  us.  Philip  took  her  to 
her  father's,  and  was  intending  to  call  at  your  place  on  hia 


282  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

w&y  home.  I  hope  you  will  not  miss  him.  That  is."  sie 
added,  while  a  sudden  flush  of  color  spread  over  her  face, 
"  I  want  you  to  see  him  to-day.  I  beg  you  won't  take  my 
words  as  intended  for  a  dismissal." 

"  Not  now,  certainly,"  said  Joseph.  But  he  rose  from 
his  seat  as  he  spoke. 

Madeline  looked  both  confused  and  pained.  "  I  know 
that  I  spoke  awkwardly,"  she  said,  "  but  indeed  I  was  very 
anxious.  It  was  also  Lucy's  wish.  We  hare  been  talking 
about  you  this  morning." 

"  You  are  very  kind.  And  yet — I  ought  to  wish  you  a 
more  cheerful  subject." 

What  was  it  in  Madeline's  face  that  haunted  Joseph  on 
his  way  home?  The  lightsome  spirit  was  gone  from  her 
eyes,  and  they  were  troubled  as  if  by  the  pressure  of  tears, 
held  back  by  a  strong  effort.  Her  assumed  calmness  at 
parting  seemed  to  cover  a  secret  anxiety;  he  had  never 
before  seen  her  bright,  free  nature  so  clouded. 

Philip,  meanwhile,  had  reached  the  farm,  where  he  was 
received  by  Rachel  Miller. 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  that  Joseph  is  not  at  home,"  he  said  ; 
"  there  are  some  things  which  I  need  to  discuss  with  you, 
before  I  see  him.  Can  you  guess  what  they  are  ?  Have 
you  heard  nothing, — no  stories  ?  " 

Rachel's  face  grew  pale,  yet  there  was  a  strong  fire  of 
indignation  in  her  eyes.  "Dennis  told  me  an  outrageous 
report  he  had  heard  in  the  village,"  she  said  :  "  if  you  mean 
the  same  thing,  you  did  well  to  see  me  first.  You  can  help 
me  to  keep  this  insult  from  Joseph's  knowledge." 

"  If  I  could  I  would,  Miss  Rachel.  I  share  your  feeling 
about  it ;  but  suppose  the  report  were  now  so  extended — 
and  of  course  io  a  more  exaggerated  form  the  farther  it 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  283 

that  we  cannot  avoid  its  probable  consequences  ? 
This  is  not  like  a  mere  slander,  which  can  be  suffered  to  dit 
of  itself.  It  is  equivalent  to  a  criminal  charge,  and  must 
be  faced." 

She  clasped  her  hands,  and  stared  at  him  in  terror. 

"But  why,"  she  faltered — "  why  does  any  one  dare  to 
make  such  a  charge  ?  And  against  the  best,  the  most  inno- 

MDt— n 

"  The  fact  of  the  poisoning  cannot  be  concealed,"  said 
Philip.  "  It  appears,  moreover,  that  one  of  the  women  who 
was  in  the  house  on  the  day  of  Julia's  death  heard  her  cry 
out  to  Joseph  :  '  Go  away, — you  have  killed  me  ! '  I  need 
not  take  up  the  reports  any  further ;  there  is  enough  in 
these  two  circumstances  to  excite  the  suspicions  of  those 
who  do  not  know  Joseph  as  we  do.  It  is  better,  therefore, 
to  meet  those  suspicions  before  they  come  to  us  in  a  legal 
form." 

"  What  can  we  do  ?  "  cried  Rachel ;  "  it  is  terrible !  " 

"  One  course  is  clear,  if  it  is  possible.  We  must  try  to 
discover  not  only  the  cause  of  Julia's  suicide,  but  the  place 
where  she  procured  the  poison,  and  her  design  in  procuring 
it.  She  must  have  had  it  already  in  the  house." 

"  I  never  thought  of  that.  And  her  ways  were  so  quiet 
and  sly  !  How  shall  we  ever  find  it  out?  O,  to  think  that, 
dead  and  gone  as  she  is,  she  can  yet  bring  all  this  upon 
Joseph ! " 

"  Try  to  be  calm,  Miss  Rachel,"  said  Philip.  "  I  want 
your  help,  and  you  must  have  all  your  wits  about  you. 
First,  you  must  make  a  very  careful  examination  of  her 
clothing  and  effects,  even  to  the  merest  scrap  of  paper.  A 
man's  good  name — a  man's  life,  sometimes — hangs  upon  n 
thread,  in  the  most  literal  sense.  There  is  no  doubt  thai 


284  JOSEPH    AOT)   HT8   FK1END. 

Julia  meant  to  keep  a  secret,  and  she  muse  have  had  a 
strong  reason ;  but  we  have  a  stronger  one,  now,  to  discover 
it.  First,  as  to  the  poison ;  was,  there  any  arsenic  in  the 
house  when  Julia  came  ?  " 

"  Not  a  speck  !     I  never  kept  it,  even  for  rats." 

"  Then  we  shall  begin  with  ascertaining  where  she  bought 
it.  Let  us  make  our  investigations  secretly,  and  as  speedily 
as  possible.  Joseph  need  not  know,  at  present,  what  we 
have  undertaken,  but  he  must  know  the  charge  that  hangs 
over  him.  Unless  I  tell  him,  he  may  learn  it  in  a  more 
violent  way.  I  sent  Elwood  Withers  to  Magnolia  yester- 
day, and  his  report  leaves  me  no  choice  of  action." 

Rachel  Miller  felt,  from  the  stern  gravity  of  Philip's 
manner,  that  he  had  not  exaggerated  Joseph's  danger.  She 
consented  to  be  guided  by  him  in  all  things  ;  and  this  point 
being  settled,  they  arranged  a  plan  of  action  and  communi- 
cation, which  was  tolerably  complete  by  the  time  Joseph 
returned. 

As  gently  as  possible  Philip  broke  the  unwelcome  news ; 
but,  lightly  as  he  pretended  to  consider  it,  Joseph's  instinct 
saw  at  once  what  might  be  the  consequences.  The  circum- 
stances were  all  burned  upon  his  consciousness,  ani  it 
needed  no  reflection  to  show  him  how  completely  he  was 
entangled  in  them. 

"There  is  no  alterrutive,"  he  said,  at  last.  "It  was  a 
mistake  to  conceal  the  cause  of  her  death  from  the  public : 
it  is  easy  to  misunderstand  her  exclamation,  and  make  my 
crime  out  of  her  madness.  I  see  the  whole  connection! 
This  suspicion  will  not  stop  where  it  is.  It  will  go  further  j 
and  therefore  I  must  anticipate  it.  I  must  demand  a  legal 
Inquiry  before  the  law  forces  one  upon  me.  If  it  is  not  mj 
pnly  method  of  defence,  it  is  certainly  my  best  1 " 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  285 

"  You  are  right  ! "  Philip  exclaimed.  "  I  knew  thii 
would  be  your  decision ;  I  said  so  to  Madeline  this  morn- 
ing." 

Now  Madeline's  confused  manner  became  intelligible  to 
Joseph.  Yet  a  doubt  still  lingered  in  his  mind.  "  Did  she, 
did  Madeline  question  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Neither  she  nor  Lucy  Henderson.  If  you  do  this,  I 
cannot  see  how  it  will  terminate  without  a  trial.  Lucy  may 
then  happen  to  be  an  important  witness." 

Joseph  started.  "  Must  that  be  1 "  he  cried.  "  Has  not 
Lucy  been  already  forced  to  endure  enough  for  my  sake  ? 
A.dvise  me,  Philip  !  Is  there  any  other  way  than  that  I 
have  proposed  ?  " 

"  I  see  no  other.  But  your  necessity  is  far  greater  than 
that  for  Lucy's  endurance.  She  is  a  friend,  and  there  can 
be  no  sacrifice  in  so  serving  you.  What  are  we  all  good  for, 
if  not  to  serve  you  in  such  a  strait  ?  " 

"  I  would  like  to  spare  her,  nevertheless,"  said  Joseph, 
gteomily.  "  I  meant  so  well  towards  all  my  friends,  and  my 
friendship  seems  to  bring  only  disgrace  and  sorrow." 

"  Joseph ! "  Philip  exclaimed,  "  you  have  saved  one 
friend  from  more  than  disgrace  and  sorrow  !  I  do  not  know 
what  might  have  come,  but  you  called  me  back  from  the 
brink  of  an  awful,  doubtful  eternity  !  You  have  given  me 
an  infinite  loss  c*nd  an  infinite  gain  !  I  only  ask  you,  in 
return,  to  obey  your  first  true,  proud  instinct  of  innocence, 
and  let  me,  and  Lucy,  and  El  wood  be  glad  to  take  its  con- 
sequences, for  your  sake  !  " 

"  I  cannot  help  myself,"  Joseph  answered.  "  My  rash  im- 
patience and  injustice  will  como  to  light,  and  that  may  be  tna 
atonement  I  owe.  If  Lucy  will  spare  herself,  and  report  m« 
truly,  as  I  must  have  appeared  to  her,  she  will  serve  me  beat.* 


286  JOSEPH   AND   III8   FRIEND. 

u  Leave  that,  now  !  The  first  step  is  what  most  concern! 
us.  When  will  you  be  ready  to  demand  a  legal  investiga 
tion  ?  " 

"  At  once  ! — to-morrow  !  " 

"  Then  we  will  go  together  to  Magnolia.  I  fear  we  can- 
not change  the  ordinary  forms  of  procedure,  and  there  must 
be  bail  for  your  appearance  at  the  proper  time." 

"  Already  on  the  footing  of  a  criminal  ?"  Joseph  mur- 
mured, with  a  sinking  of  the  heart.  He  had  hardly  compre- 
hended, up  to  this  moment,  what  his  position  would  be. 

The  next  day  they  drove  to  the  county  town.  The  step 
had  not  been  taken  a  moment  too  soon,  for  such  representa- 
tions had  been  made  that  a  warrant  for  Joseph's  arrest  was 
in  the  hands  of  the  constable,  and  would  have  been  served 
in  a  few  hours.  Philip  and  Mr.  Hopeton,  who  also  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  town  by  a  fortunate  chance  (though 
Philip  knew  how  the  chance  came),  offered  to  accept  what- 
ever amount  of  bail  might  be  demanded.  The  matter  was 
arranged  as  privately  as  possible,  but  it  leaked  out  in  some 
way,  and  Philip  was  seriously  concerned  lest  the  curiosity — 
perhaps,  even,  the  ill-will — of  a  few  persons  might  be  mani- 
fested towards  Joseph.  He  visited  the  offices  of  the  county 
papers,  and  took  care  that  the  voluntary  act  should  be 
stated  in  such  a  manner  as  to  set  its  character  properly 
before  the  people.  Everything,  he  felt,  depended  on  se- 
curing a  fair  and  unprejudiced  judgment  of  the  case. 

This,  indeed,  was  far  more  important  than  even  he  sus- 
pected. In  a  country  where  the  press  is  so  entirely  free, 
and  where,  owing  to  the  lazy,  indifferent  habit  of  thought — 
or,  rather,  habit  of  no  thought — of  the  people,  the  editorial 
views  are  accepted  without  scrutiny,  a  man's  good  name 
or  life  may  depend  on  the  coloring  given  to  his  acts  by  a  few 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND  281 

indivichial  minds,  it  is  especially  necessary  to  keep  th« 
balance  even,  to  offset  one  statement  by  another,  and  pre- 
vent a  partial  presentation  of  the  case  from  turning  tna 
scales  in  advance.  The  same  phenomena  were  as  likely  to 
present  themselves  here,  before  a  small  public,  as  in  the 
large  cities,  where  the  whole  population  of  the  country 
become  a  more  or  less  interested  public.  The  result  might 
hinge,  not  upon  Joseph's  personal  character  as  his  friends 
knew  it,  but  upon  the  political  party  with  which  he  was  affi- 
liated, the  church  to  which  he  belonged, — nay,  even  upon 
the  accordance  of  his  personal  sentiments  with  the  public 
sentiment  of  the  community  in  which  he  lived.  If  he  had 
dared  to  defy  the  latter,  asserting  the  sacred  right  of  his  own 
mind  to  the  largest  liberty,  he  was  already  a  marked  man. 
Philip  did  not  understand  the  extent  and  power  of  the  ex- 
ternal influences  which  control  what  we  complacently  caU 
"justice,"  but  he  knew  something  of  the  world,  and  acted  in 
reality  more  prudently  than  he  supposed. 

He  was  calm  and  cheerful  for  Joseph's  sake ;  yet,  now 
that  the  matter  was  irrevocably  committed  to  the  decision 
of  a  new,  uninterested  tribunal,  he  began  to  feel  the  gravity 
of  his  friend's  position. 

"  I  almost  wish,"  Joseph  said,  as  they  drove  homewards, 
"  that  no  bail  had  been  granted.  Since  the  court  meets  in 
October,  a  few  weeks  of  seclusion  would  do  me  no  harm ; 
whereas  now  I  am  a  suspected  person  to  nearly  all  whom  I 
may  meet." 

"  It  is  not  agreeable,"  Philip  answered,  "  but  the  disci- 
pline may  be  useful.  The  bail  terminates  when  the  trial 
commences,  you  understand,  and  you  will  have  a  few  nighti 
alone,  as  it  is, — quite  enough,  I  imagine,  to  make  you  satis- 
fied with  liberty  under  suspicion.  However  I  have  on« 


288  JOSEPH    A.ND   HIS   FRIEND. 

demand  to  make,  Joseph  !  I  have  thought  over  all  possible 
lines  of  defence ;  I  have  secured  legal  assistance  for  you, 
and  we  are  agreed  as  to  the  course  to  be  adopted.  I  do 
not  think  you  can  help  us  at  alL  If  we  find  that  you 
can,  we  will  call  upon  you;  in  the  mean  time,  wait  and 
hope !  " 

"  Why  should  I  not  ?  "  Joseph  asked.  "  I  have  nothing 
to  fear,  Philip." 

"  No  !  "  But  Philip's  emphatic  answer  was  intended  to 
leceive.  He  was  purposely  false,  knew  himself  to  be  so, 
and  yet  his  conscience  never  troubled  him  less  ! 

When  they  reached  the  farm,  Philip  saw  by  Rachel  Mil- 
ler's face  that  she  had  a  communication  to  make.  It  re 
quired  a  little  management  to  secure  an  interview  with  her 
without  Joseph's  knowledge;  but  some  necessity  for  his 
presence  at  the  barn  favored  his  friend.  No  sooner  were 
they  alone  than  Rachel  approached  Philip  hastily  and  said, 
in  a  hurried  whisper : — 

"  Here !  I  have  found  something,  at  last !  It  took  a 
mighty  search :  I  thought  I  never  should  come  upon  the 
least  bit  that  we  could  make  anything  of:  but  this  was  in 
the  upper  part  of  a  box  where  she  kept  her  rings  and 
chains,  and  such  likes !  Take  it, — it  makes  me  uncomfort- 
able to  hold  it  in  my  fingers  !  " 

She  thrust  a  small  paper  into  his  hand. 

It  was  folded  very  neatly,  and  there  was  an  apothecary's 
label  on  the  back.  Philip  read  :  "  Ziba  Linthicum's  Drug 
store,  No.  77  Main  St.,  Magnolia."  Under  this  printed 
address  was  written  in  large  letters  the  word  "  Arsenic." 
On  unfolding  the  paper  he  saw  that  a  little  white  dust 
remained  in  the  creases :  quite  enough  to  identify  the  char- 
acter of  the  drug. 


JOBKl'U    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  L'-'.t 

1 1  shall  go  back  to-morrow !  "  he  said.  "  Thank  Hea- 
ven, we  have  got  one  clew  to  the  mystery !  Joseph  must 
know  nothing  of  this  until  all  is  explained ;  but  while  I  am 
gone  make  another  and  more  thorough  search  !  Leave  no 
cornei  unexplored :  I  am  sure  we  shall  find  something 
more." 

"  I'd  rip  up  her  dresses  !  "  was  Rachel's  emphatic  reply. 
41  That  is,  if  it  would  do  any  good.  But  perhaps  feeling 
of  the  lining  and  the  hems  might  be  enough.  I'll  take 
every  drawer  out,  and  move  the  furniture  !  But  I  must 
wait  for  daylight :  I'm  not  generally  afeared,  but  there  is 
some  things,  you  know,  which  a  body  would  as  lief  not  do 
by  night,  with  cracks  and  creaks  all  around  you,  which  you 
don't  seem  to  hear  at  other  times." 
13 


JOSEPH    .LND   HIS    FBIENIX 


CHAPTER  XXVU. 

THE    LABELS. 

THE  work  at  Coventry  Forge  was  now  so  well  organized 
that  Philip  could  easily  give  the  most  of  his  time  to  Joseph's 
vindication.  He  had  secured  the  services  of  an  excellent 
country  lawyer,  but  he  also  relied  much  upon  the  assistance 
of  two  persons, — his  sister  Madeline  and  El  wood  Withers  : 
Madeline,  from  her  rapid,  clear  insight,  her  shrewd  interpre- 
tation of  circumstances ;  and  Elwood  as  an  active,  untiring 
practical  agent. 

The  latter,  according  to  agreement,  had  ridden  up  from 
his  section  of  the  railway,  and  was  awaiting  Philip  when  he 
returned  home. 

Philip  gave  them  the  history  of  the  day, — this  time 
frankly,  with  all  the  signs  and  indications  which  he  had  so 
carefully  kept  from  Joseph's  knowledge.  Both  looked 
aghast ;  and  Elwood  bent  an  ivory  paper-cutter  so  suddenly 
in  his  hands  that  it  snapped  in  twain.  He  colored  like  a 
girl. 

"  It  serves  me  right,"  he  said.  "  Whenever  my  hands  are 
idle,  Satan  finds  mischief  for  'em, — as  the  spelling-book  says. 
But  just  so  the  people  bend  and  twist  Joseph  Asten's  cha- 
racter, and  just  so  unexpectedly  his  life  may  snap  in  their 
hands ! " 

"  May  the  omen  be  averted ! "  Madeline  cried.  "  Put 
down  the  pieces,  Mr.  Withers  1  You  frighten  me." 

"  No,  it  is  reversed  i "  laid  Philip.     "  Just  so  Joseph*! 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FEIEND.  291 

friends  will  snap  this  chain  of  circumstances.  If  you  begii 
to  be  superstitious,  I  must  look  out  for  other  aids.  Tht 
tracing  of  the  poison  is  a  more  fortunate  step  than  I  hoped, 
at  the  start.  I  cannot  at  all  guess  to  what  it  may  lead,  but 
there  is  a  point  beyond  which  even  the  most  malignant  fate 
has  no  further  power  over  an  innocent  man.  Thus  far  we 
have  met  nothing  but  hostile  circumstances :  there  seems  to 
be  more  than  Chance  in  the  game,  and  I  have  an  idea  that 
the  finding  of  this  paper  will  break  the  evil  spell.  Come 
now,  Madeline,  and  you,  Withers,  give  me  your  guesses  as 
to  what  my  discovery  shall  be  to-morrow  !  " 

After  a  pause,  Madeline  answered :  "  It  must  have 
been  purchased — perhaps  even  by  Mr.  Asten — for  rats 
or  mice ;  and  she  may  have  swallowed  the  drug  in  a  fit  of 
passion." 

"  I  think,"  said  Elwood,  "  that  she  bought  it  for  the  pur- 
pose of  poisoning  Joseph  !  Then,  may  be,  the  glasses  were 
changed,  as  I've  heard  tell  of  a  man  whose  wife  changed  hia 
coffee-cup  because  there  was  a  fly  in  it,  giving  him  hers,  and 
thereby  innocently  killed  him  when  lie  meant  to  ha'  killed 
her." 

"  Ha  !  "  Philip  cried ;  "  the  most  incredible  things,  appa- 
rently, are  sometimes  the  most  natural !  I  had  not  thought 
of  this  explanation." 

"  O  Philip  !  "  said  Madeline,  "  that  would  be  a  new  hor- 
ror !  Pray,  let  us  not  think  of  it :  indeed,  indeed,  we  must 
not  guess  any  more." 

Philip  strove  to  put  the  idea  from  his  mind :  he  feared 
lest  it  might  warp  his  judgment  and  mislead  him  in  investi- 
gations which  it  required  a  cool,  sharp  intellect  to  prose- 
cute. But  the  idea  would  not  stay  away :  it  haunted  hire 
precisely  on  account  of  its  enormity,  and  he  rode  again  to 


292  JOSEPH   AND   HIS    FRIEND. 

Magnolia  the  next  day  with  a  foreboding  sense  of  some  tra 
gic  secret  about  to  be  revealed. 

But  he  never  could  have  anticipated  the  actual  revela- 
tion. 

There  was  no  difficulty  in  finding  Ziba  Linthicum's  drug 
store.  The  proprietor  was  a  lank,  thin- faced  man,  with  pro- 
jecting, near-sighted  eyes,  and  an  exceedingly  prim,  pursed 
mouth.  His  words,  uttered  in  the  close,  wiry  twang  pecu- 
liar to  Southern  Pennsylvania,  seemed  to  give  him  a  posi- 
tive relish  :  one  could  fancy  that  his  mouth  watered  slightly 
as  he  spoke.  His  long,  lean  lips  had  a  settled  smirk  at  the 
corner,  and  the  skin  was  drawn  so  tightly  over  his  broad, 
concave  chin-bone  that  it  shone,  as  if  polished  around  the 
^dges. 

He  was  waiting  upon  a  little  girl  when  Philip  entered  , 
but  he  looked  up  from  his  scales,  bowed,  smiled,  and  said : 
"  In  a  moment,  if  you  please." 

Philip  leaned  upon  the  glass  case,  apparently  absorbed  in 
the  contemplation  of  the  various  soaps  and  perfumes  under 
his  eyes,  but  thinking  only  of  the  paper  in  his  pocket-book. 

"  Something  in  this  line,  perhaps  ?  " 

Mr.  Linthicum,  with  a  still  broader  smile,  began  to  enu- 
merate :  "  These  are  from  the  Society  Hygiennick — 

"  No,"  said  Philip,  "  my  business  is  especially  private. 
I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  have  many  little  confidential 
matters  intrusted  to  you." 

"  Oh,  undoubtedly,  sir !    Quite  as  much  so  as  a  physician." 

"  You  are  aware  also  that  mistakes  sometimes  occur  in 
making  up  prescriptions,  or  in  using  them  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Not  by  me,  I  should  hope.  I  keep  a  record  of  erery 
dangerous  ingredient  which  goes  out  of  my  hands." 

"Ah!"   Philip  exclaimed.     Then  he  paused,  uncertain 


JOSEPH   AOT>   HIS   FRIEND.  203 

how  much  to  confide  to  Mr.  Linthicum's  discretion.  But 
on  mentioning  his  name  and  residence,  he  found  that  both 
himself  and  Mr.  Hopeton  were  known — and  favorably,  it 
seemed — to  the  apothecary.  He  knew  the  class  of  men  to 
which  the  latter  belonged, — prim,  fussy,  harmlessly  vain 
persons,  yet  who  take  as  good  care  of  their  consciences  as  of 
their  cravats  and  shirt-bosoms.  He  produced  the  paper 
without  further  delay. 

"  That  was  bought  here,  certainly,"  said  Mr.  Linthicum. 
"  The  word  *  Arsenic '  is  written  in  my  hand.  The  date 
when,  and  the  person  by  whom  it  was  purchased,  must  be 
in  my  register.  Will  you  go  over  it  with  me  ?  " 

He  took  a  volume  from  a  drawer,  and  beginning  at  the 
last  entry,  they  went  slowly  backward  over  the  names,  the 
apothecary  saying  :  "  This  is  confidential :  I  rely  upon  your 
seeing  without  remembering." 

They  had  not  gone  back  more  than  two  or  three  weekg 
before  Philip  came  upon  a  name  that  made  his  heart  stand 
still.  There  was  a  record  in  a  single  line  : — 

"  3fias  Henderson.     Arsenic." 

He  waited  a  few  seconds,  until  he  felt  sure  of  his  voice. 
Ihen  he  asked :  "  Do  you  happen  to  know  Miss  Henderson?** 

"  Not  at  all !     A  perfect  stranger." 

"  Can  you,  perhaps,  remember  her  appearance?" 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  Mr.  Linthicum,  biting  the  end  of  his 
forefinger;  "  that  must  have  been  the  veiled  lady.  The 
date  corresponds.  Yes,  I  feel  sure  of  it,  as  all  the  other 
poison  customers  are  known  to  me." 

"  Pray  describe  her  then  !  "  Philip  exclaimed. 

"  Really,  I  fear  that  I  cannot.  Dressed  in  black,  I  think' 
but  I  will  not  be  positive.  A  soft,  agreeable  voice,  I  ain 
sure." 


294  JOSEPH    AJSTD   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  Was  she  al  >ne  ?     Or  was  any  one  else  present  ?  w 

"  Now  I  do  recall  one  thing,"  the  apothecary  answered 
'*  There  was  an  agent  of  a  wholesale  city  firm — a  travelling 
agent,  you  understand — trying  to  persuade  me  into  an  order 
on  his  house.  He  stepped  on  one  side  as  she  came  to  the 
counter,  and  he  perhaps  saw  her  face  more  distinctly,  for  he 
laughed  as  she  left,  and  said  something  about  a  handsome 
girl  putting  her  lovers  out  of  their  misery." 

But  Mr.  Linthicum  could  remember  neither  the  name  of 
the  agent  nor  that  of  the  firm  which  he  represented.  All 
Philip's  questioning  elicited  no  further  particulars,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  be  satisfied  with  the  record  of  the  day  and 
probable  hour  of  the  purchase,  and  with  the  apothecary's 
promise  of  the  strictest  secrecy. 

He  rode  immediately  home,  and  after  a  hasty  consulta- 
tion with  Madeline,  remounted  his  horse  and  set  out  to  find 
Lucy  Henderson.  He  was  fortunate  enough  to  meet  her  on 
the  highway,  on  her  way  to  call  upon  a  neighbor.  Spring- 
ing from  his  horse  he  walked  beside  her,  and  announced  his 
discovery  at  once. 

Lucy  remembered  the  day  when  she  had  accompanied  Julia 
to  Magnolia,  during  Joseph's  absence  from  home.  The  time 
of  the  day,  also,  corresponded  to  that  given  by  the  apothecary. 

"  Did  you  visit  the  drug-store  ?  "  Philip  asked. 

"  No,"  she  answered,  "  and  I  did  not  know  that  Julia 
aad.  I  paid  two  or  three  visits  to  acquaintances,  while 
ihe  did  hei  shopping,  as  she  told  me." 

"  Then  try  and  remember,  not  only  the  order  of  those 
visits,  but  the  time  occupied  by  each,"  said  Philip.  "  Write 
to  your  friends,  and  ask  them  to  refresh  their  memories.  It 
bus  become  an  important  point,  for — the  poison  was  purchas- 
ed in  your  name  1 " 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  295 

"Impossible!"  Lucy  cried.  She  gazed  at  Philip  witL 
such  amazement  that  her  innocence  was  then  fixed  in  his 
mind,  if  it  had  not  been  so  before. 

"  Yes,  I  say  *  impossible  ! '  too,"  he  answered.  "  There  ia 
only  one  explanation.  Julia  Asten  gave  your  name  instead 
of  her  own  when  she  purchased  it." 

"  Oh  ! "  Lucy's  voice  sounded  like  a  hopeless  personal 
protest  against  the  collective  falsehood  and  wickedness  of  the 
world. 

"  I  have  another  chance  to  reach  the  truth,"  said  Philip. 
"  I  shall  find  the  stranger, — the  travelling  agent, — if  it 
obliges  me  to  summon  every  such  agent  of  every  wholesale 
drug-house  in  the  city!  It  is  at  least  a  positive  fortune 
that  we  have  made  this  discovery  now." 

He  looked  at  his  watch.  "  I  have  just  time  to  catch  the 
evening  train,"  he  said,  hurriedly,  "  but  I  should  like  to  send 
a  message  to  Elwood  Withers.  If  you  pass  through  that, 
wood  on  the  right,  you  will  see  the  track  just  below  you.  It 
is  not  more  than  half  a  mile  from  here ;  and  you  are  almost 
sure  to  find  him  at  or  near  the  unfinished  tunnel.  Tell  him 
to  see  Rachel  Miller,  and  if  anything  further  has  been  found, 
to  inform  my  sister  Madeline  at  once.  That  is  all.  I  make 
no  apology  for  imposing  the  service  on  you :  good-by,  and 
keep  up  your  faith,  Lucy  !  " 

He  pressed  her  hand,  sprang  into  the  saddle,  and  cantered 
briskly  away. 

Lucy,  infected  by  his  haste,  crossed  the  field,  struggled 
through  the  under-growth  of  the  wild  belt  of  wood,  and  de- 
scended to  the  railway  track,  without  giving  herself  time  to 
think.  She  met  a  workman  near  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel, 
and  not  daring  to  venture  in,  sent  by  him  a  summons  to 
Elwood.  It  was  not  many  minutes  before  he  appeared. 


296  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  Something  has  happened,  Lucy  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Philip  thinks  he  has  made  a  discovery,"  she  answered* 
"  and  1  come  to  you  as  his  messenger."  She  then  repeated 
Philip's  words. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  El  wood  asked,  scanning  her  face  anxiouslj 
"  You  do  not  seem  quite  like  your  real  self,  Lucy." 

She  sat  down  upon  the  bank.  "  I  am  out  of  breath,"  she 
said  ;  "  I  must  have  walked  faster  than  I  thought." 

"  Wait  a  minute  !  "  said  he.  He  ran  up  the  track,  to 
where  a  little  side-glen  crossed  it,  sprang  down  among  the 
bushes,  and  presently  reappeared  with  a  tin  cup  full  of  cold, 
pure  spring  water. 

The  draught  seemed  to  revive  her  at  once.  "  It  is  not  all, 
Elwood,"  she  said.  "  Joseph  is  not  the  only  one,  now,  who 
is  implicated  by  the  same  circumstances." 

"  Who  else  ?— not  Philip  Held !  " 

"  No,"  she  answered,  very  quietly,  "  it  is  a  woman.  Her 
name  is  Lucy  Henderson." 

Before  Elwood  could  speak,  she  told  him  all  that  she  had 
heard  from  Philip.  He  could  scarcely  bring  his  mind  to 
accept  its  truth. 

"  Oh,  the — "  he  began ;  "  but,  no  !  I  will  keep  the  words  to 
myself.  There  is  something  deeper  in  this  than  any  of  us  has 
yet  looked  for  !  Depend  upon  it,  Lucy,  she  had  a  plan  in 
getting  you  there  1 " 

Lucy  was  silent.  She  fancied  she  knew  Julia's  plan  al- 
ready. 

"  Did  she  mean  to  poison  Joseph  herself,  and  throw  the 
suspicion  on  you  ?  And  now  by  her  own  death,  after  all, 
she  accomplishes  her  chief  end  !  It  is  a  hellish  tangle,  which- 
ever way  I  look ;  but  they  say  that  the  truth  will  sooner  01 
later  put  down  any  amount  of  lies,  and  BO  it  must  be,  here, 


JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FKIEND.  297 

We  must  get  at  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  bu 
the  truth  !     Do  you  not  say  so,  Lucy  ?  " 

"  Yes !  "  she  answered  firmly,  looking  him  in  the  face. 

"  Ay,  though  all  should  come  to  light !  We  can't  tell 
what  it  may  be  necessary  to  say.  They  may  go  to  work 
and  unravel  Joseph's  life,  and  yours,  and  mine,  and  hold  up 
the  stuff  for  everybody  to  look  at.  Well,  let  'em  !  say  L 
If  there  are  dark  streaks  in  mine,  I  guess  they'll  look  toler- 
ably fair  beside  that  one  black  heart.  We're  here  alone, 
Lucy ;  there  may  not  be  a  chance  to  say  it  soon  again,  so 
I'll  say  now,  that  if  need  comes  to  publish  what  I  said  to 
jou  one  night  a  year  ago, — to  publish  it  for  Joseph's  sake, 
or  your  sake, — don't  keep  back  a  single  wo^d  !  The  worst 
«rould  be,  some  men  or  women  might  think  me  conceited." 

"  No,  El  wood  !  "  she  exclaimed :  "  that  reproach  would 
fall  on  me !  You  once  offered  me  your  help,  and  I — I  feat 
I  spurned  it ;  but  I  will  take  it  now.  Nay,  I  beg  you  to 
offer  it  to  me  again,  and  I  will  accept  it  with  gratitude  1 n 

She  rose,  and  stretched  out  her  hand. 

Elwood  clasped  it  tenderly,  held  it  a  moment,  and  seemed 
about  to  speak.  But  although  his  lips  parted,  and  there 
was  a  movement  of  the  muscles  of  his  throat,  he  did  not 
utter  a  word.  In  another  moment  he  turned,  walked  a  few 
yards  up  the  track,  and  then  came  back  to  her. 

"  No  one  could  mistake  you  for  Julia  Asten,"  he  said. 
"  You  are  at  least  half  a  head  taller  than,  she  was.  Your 
voice  is  not  at  all  the  same :  the  apothecary  will  surely 
notice  the  difference !  Then  an  alibi,  as  they  call  it,  can  be 
proved." 

"  So  Philip  Held  thought.  But  if  my  friends  should  not 
remember  the  exact  time, — what  should  I  then  do  ?  " 

(( Lucy,  don't  ask  yourself  the  question  now  !     It  seem* 
13* 


298  JOSEPH   AJS'E    HIS   FRIEND. 

to  me  that  the  case  stands  this  way :  one  evil  woman  ha* 
made  a  trap,  fallen  into  it  herself,  and  taken  the  secret  of  its 
make  away  with  her.  There  is  nothing  more  to  be  invented, 
and  so  we  hold  all  that  we  gain.  While  we  are  mining, 
where's  the  counter-mining  to  come  from?  Who  is  to  lie 
us  out  of  our  truth  ?  There  isn't  much  to  stand  on  yet,  I 
grant ;  but  another  step — the  least  little  thing—  may  give  us 
all  the  ground  we  want !  " 

He  spoke  so  firmly  and  cheerily  that  Lucy's  despondent 
feeling  was  charmed  away.  Besides,  nothing  could  have 
touched  her  more  than  El  wood's  heroic  self-control.  After 
the  miserable  revelation  which  Philip  had  made,  it  was 
unspeakably  refreshing  to  be  brought  into  contact  with  a 
nature  so  sound  and  sweet  and  strong.  When  he  had  led 
her  by  an  easier  path  up  the  hill,  and  they  had  parted  at  the 
end  of  the  lane  leading  to  her  father's  house,  she  felt,  as 
never  before,  the  comfort  of  relying  so  wholly  on  a  faithful 
man  friend.  f 

Elwood  took  his  horse  and  rode  to  the  Asten  farm. 
Joseph's  face  brightened  at  his  appearance,  and  they  talked 
as  of  old,  avoiding  the  dark  year  that  lay  between  their  past 
intimacy  and  its  revival.  As  in  Philip's  case,  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  communicate  secretly  with  Rachel  Miller;  but 
Elwood,  with  great  patience,  succeeded  in  looking  his  wish 
to  speak  with  her,  and  uniting  her  efforts  with  his  own.  She 
adroitly  turned  the  conversation  upon  a  geological  work 
which  Josepa  had  been  reading. 

"  I've  been  looking  into  the  subject  myself,"  Elwood  said. 
B  Would  you  let  me  see  the  book :  it  may  be  the  thing  J 
want." 

"It  is  on  the  book-shelf  in  your  bedroom,  Joseph,"  Ha 
Ael  remarked. 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  299 

There  was  time  enough  for  Elwood  to  declare  his  business, 
and  for  Rachel  to  answer :  "  Mr.  Held  said  every  scrap,  and 
it  is  but  a  scrap,  with  half  a  name  on  it.  I  found  it  behind 
and  mostly  under  the  lower  drawer  in  the  same  box.  I'll 
get  it  before  you  leave,  and  give  it  to  you  when  we  shake 
hands.  Be  careful,  for  he  may  make  something  out  of  it, 
after  all.  Tell  him  there  isn't  a  stitch  in  a  dress  but  I've 
examined,  and  a  mortal  work  it  was  !  " 

It  was  late  before  Elwood  could  leave ;  nevertheless,  he 
rode  to  Coventry  Forge.  The  scrap  of  paper  had  been  suc- 
cessfully transferred,  and  his  pressing  duty  was  to  deliver  it 
into  the  hands  of  Madeline  Held.  He  found  her  anxiously 
waiting,  in  accordance  with  Philip's  instructions. 

When  they  looked  at  the  paper,  it  seemed,  truly,  to  be  a 
worthless  fragment.  It  had  the  character,  also,  of  an  apothe- 
cary's label,  but  the  only  letters  remaining  were  those  form- 
ing the  end  of  the  name,  apparently  — era,  and  a  short  distance 
under  them  — /Site. 

" '  Behind  and  mostly  under  the  lower  drawer  of  hei 
jewel-case,"  said  Madeline,  musingly.  "  I  think  I  might 
guess  how  it  came  there.  She  had  seen  the  label,  which  had 
probably  been  forgotten,  and  then,  as  she  supposed,  had 
snatched  it  away  and  destroyed  it,  without  noticing  that  this 
piece,  caught  behind  the  drawer,  had  been  torn  off.  But 
there  is  no  evidence— and  perhaps  none  can  be  had — that 
the  paper  contained  poison." 

'*  Can  you  make  anything  out  of  the  letters  ?  "  Elwood 
asked. 

"  The  '  Ste '  certainly  means  *  Streets ' — now,  I  see !  It  is  a 
corner  house  !  This  makes  the  place  a  little  more  easy  to  b« 
identified.  If  Philip  cannot  find  it,  I  am  sure  a  detective  can. 
1  will  write  to  him  at  once." 


300  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  Then  Til  wait  and  ride  to  the  office  with  the  letter,* 
said  Elwood. 

Madeline  rose,  and  commenced  walking  up  and  down  the 
room  :  she  appeared  to  be  suddenly  and  unusually  excited, 

"  I  have  a  new  suspicion,"  she  said,  at  last.  "  Perhaps  I 
am  in  too  much  of  a  hurry  to  make  conjectures,  because 
Philip  thinks  I  have  a  talent  for  it, — and  yet,  this  grows  up 
on  me  every  minute  !  I  hope — oh,  I  hope  I  am  right !  " 

She  spoke  with  so  much  energy  that  Elwood  began  to  share 
her  excitement  without  knowing  its  cause.  She  noticed  the 
eager,  waiting  expression  of  his  face. 

"  You  must  really  pardon  me,  Mr.  Withers.  I  believe  1 
was  talking  to  myself  rather  than  to  you  ;  I  will  not  mention 
my  fancy  until  Philip  decides  whether  it  is  worth  acting  upon. 
There  will  be  no  harm  if  each  of  us  finds  a  different  clew,  and 
follows  it.  Philip  will  hardly  leave  the  city  to-morrow.  I 
shall  not  write,  but  go  down  with  the  first  train  in  the  mom- 
ing!" 

Elwood  took  his  leave,  feeling  hopeful  and  yet  very  restless 

It  was  a  long  while  before  Madeline  encountered  Philip. 
He  was  busily  employed  in  carrying  out  his  plan  of  tracing 
the  travelling  agent, — not  yet  successful,  but  sanguine  ol 
success.  He  examined  the  scrap  of  paper  which  Madeline 
brought,  listened  to  her  reasons  for  the  new  suspicion  which 
had  crossed  her  mind,  and  compared  them  with  the  little 
evidence  already  collected. 

"  Do  not  let  us  depend  too  seriously  on  this,"  he  then  said  ; 
•*  there  is  about  an  even  chance  that  you  are  right.  "We  will 
keep  it  as  an  additional  and  independent  test,  but  we  dare 
not  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  the  law  will  assume  Joseph's 
guilt,  and  we  must  establish  his  innocence,  first  of  all.  Nay, 
if  we  can  simply  prove  that  Julia,  and  not  Lucy,  purchased 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  801 

the  poison,  we  shall  save  both  !  But,  at  the  same  time,  I  will 
try  to  find  this  —  ers,  who  lives  in  a  corner-house,  and  I  wiU 
have  a  talk  with  old  Blessing  this  very  evening." 

"Why  not  go  now?" 

"Patience,  you  impetuous  girl !  I  mean  to  take  no  step 
without  working  out  every  possible  result  in  advance.  If 
I  were  not  here  in  the  city,  I  would  consult  with  Mr. 
Pinkerton  before  proceeding  further.  Now  I  shall  take  you 
to  the  train :  you  must  return  to  Coventry,  and  watch  and 
wait  there." 

When  Philip  called  at  the  Blessing  mansion,  in  the  even- 
ing, he  found  only  Mrs.  Blessing  at  home.  She  was  rigid 
and  dreary  in  her  mourning,  and  her  reception  of  him  was 
almost  repollaut  in  its  stiff  formality. 

"  Mr.  Blessing  is  absent,"  she  explained,  inviting  Philip 
to  a  seat  by  a  wave  of  her  hand.  "His  own  interests  ren- 
dered a  trip  to  the  Oil  Regions  imperative ;  it  is  a  mental 
distraction  which  I  do  not  grudge  him.  This  is  a  cheerless 
household,  sir, — one  daughter  gone  forever,  and  another 
about  to  leave  us.  How  does  Mr.  Asten  bear  his  loss  ?  " 

Philip  thereupon,  as  briefly  and  forcibly  as  possible, 
related  all  that  had  occurred.  "  I  wish  to  consult  Mr. 
Blessing,"  he  concluded,  "  in  relation  to  the  possibility  of 
his  being  able  to  furnish  any  testimony  on  his  son-in-law's 
side.  Perhaps  you,  also — " 

"  No  !  "  she  interrupted.  "  I  know  nothing  whatever ! 
If  the  trial  (which  I  think  most  unnecessary  and  shocking) 
gets  into  the  city  papers,  it  will  be  a  terrible  scandal  for  ua 
When  will  it  come  on,  did  you  say  ?  " 

**  In  two  or  three  weeks." 

**  There  will  be  barely  time  !  "  she  cried. 

«  For  that  reason,"  said  he,  "  I  wish  to  secure  the  evi 


302  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

dence  »t  once.     All  the  preparations  for  the  defence  most 
be  completed  within  that  time." 

"  Clementina,"  Mrs.  Blessing  continued,  without  heeding 
his  words,  "  will  be  married  about  the  first  of  October.  Mr. 
Spelter  has  been  desirous  of  making  a  bridal  tour  in  Europe. 
She  did  not  favor  the  plan ;  but  it  seems  to  me  like  an  inter- 
position of  Heaven ! " 

Philip  rose,  too  disgusted  to  speak.     He  bowed  in 
and  left  the  house. 


JOSEPH   Am>   HIS 


CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

THE   TRIAI 

As  the  day  of  trial  drew  nigh,  the  anxiety  and  activity  of 
•Joseph's  friends  increased,  so  that  even  the  quiet  atmosphere 
wherein  he  lived  was  disturbed  by  it.  He  could  not  help 
knowing  that  they  were  engaged  in  collecting  evidence,  but 
inasmuch  as  Philip  always  said,  "  You  can  do  nothing ! " 
he  forced  himself  to  wait  with  such  patience  as  was  possible. 
Rachel  Miller,  who  had  partly  taken  the  hired  man,  Den- 
nis, into  her  confidence,  hermetically  sealed  the  house  to 
the  gossip  of  the  neighborhood ;  but  her  greatest  triumph 
was  in  concealing  her  alarm,  as  the  days  rolled  by  and  the 
mystery  was  not  yet  unravelled. 

There  was  not  much  division  of  opinion  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, however.  The  growing  discord  between  husband  and 
wife  had  not  been  generally  remarked :  they  were  looked  upon 
as  a  loving  and  satisfied  couple.  Joseph's  integrity  of  charac- 
ter was  acknowledged,  and,  even  had  it  been  doubted,  the 
people  saw  no  motive  for  crime.  His  action  in  demanding 
a  legal  investigation  also  operated  favorably  upon  public 
opinion. 

The  quiet  and  seclusion  were  beneficial  to  him.  Hi  a  mind 
became  calmer  and  clearer ;  he  was  able  to  survey  the  past 
without  passion,  and  to  contemplate  his  own  faults  with 
a  sense  of  wholesome  bitterness  rather  than  pain.  The 
approaching  trial  was  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  anticipate,  but 
the  worst  which  he  foresaw  was  the  probability  of  so  much 


804:  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

of  his  private  life  being  laid  bare  to  the  -world. 
again,  his  own  words  returned  to  condemn  him.  Had  he 
not  said  to  Lucy,  on  the  morning  of  that  fatal  day,  "  I  am 
sick  of  masks !  "  Had  he  not  threatened  to  follow  Julia 
with  his  own  miserable  story?  The  system  of  checks 
which  restrain  impulse,  and  the  whirl  of  currents  and  coun- 
ter-currents which  govern  a  man's  movement  through  life, 
began  to  arrange  themselves  in  his  inind.  True  wisdom,  he 
now  felt,  lay  in  understanding  these,  and  so  employing  them 
as  to  reach  individual  liberty  of  action  through  law,  and  not 
outside  of  it.  He  had  been  shallow  and  reckless,  even  in 
his  good  impulses ;  it  was  now  time  to  endure  quietly  for  a 
season  what  their  effect  had  been. 

The  day  previous  to  the  trial  Philip  had  a  long  consulta- 
tion with  Mr.  Pinkerton.  He  had  been  so  far  successful 
that  the  name  and  whereabouts  of  the  travelling  agent  had 
been  discovered :  the  latter  had  been  summoned,  but  he 
could  not  possibly  arrive  before  the  next  day.  Philip  had 
also  seen  Mr.  Blessing,  who  entered  with  great  readiness 
into  his  plans,  promised  his  assistance  in  ascertaining  the 
truth  of  Madeline's  suspicion,  and  would  give  his  testimony 
as  soon  as  he  could  return  from  New  York,  whither  he  had 
gone  to  say  fai'ewell  to  Mrs.  Clementina  Spelter,  before  her 
departure  for  Paris  on  a  bridal  journey.  These  were  the 
two  principal  witnesses  for  the  defence,  and  it  was  yet  un 
certain  what  kind  of  testimony  they  would  be  able  to  give. 

"  We  must  finish  the  other  witnesses,"  Mr.  Pinkerton 
said,  "  (who,  in  spite  of  all  we  can  do,  will  strengthen  the 
prosecution),  by  the  time  you  reach  here.  If  Spenham 
gives  us  trouble,  as  I  am  inclined  to  suspect,  we  cannot 
well  spare  you  the  first  day,  but  I  suppose  it  cannot  b« 
helped." 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIENB  805 

a  I  will  send  a  telegram  to  Blessing,  in  New  York,  to 
make  sure,"  Philip  answered.  "  Byle  and  Glanders  answei 
for  their  agent,  and  I  can  try  him  with  the  photograph  on 
the  way  out.  If  that  succeeds,  Blessing's  failure  will  be  of 
less  consequence." 

"  If  only  they  do  not  reach  Linthicum  in  the  mean  time ! 
I  will  prolong  the  impanelling  of  the  jury,  and  use  every 
other  liberty  of  delay  allowed  me ;  yet  I  have  to  be  cautious. 
This  is  Spenham's  first  important  case,  and  he  is  ambitious 
to  make  capital." 

Mr.  Spenhani  was  the  prosecuting  attorney,  who  had  just 
been  elected  to  his  first  term  of  service  in  that  capacity. 
He  had  some  shrewdness  as  a  criminal  lawyer,  and  a  great 
deal  of  experience  of  the  subterranean  channels  of  party 
politics.  This  latter  acquirement,  in  fact,  was  the  secret  oi 
his  election,  for  he  was  known  to  be  coarse,  unscrupulous, 
and  offensive.  Mr.  Pinkertou  was  able  to  foresee  his  prob- 
able line  of  attack,  and  was  especially  anxious,  for  that 
reason,  to  introduce  testimony  which  would  shorten  the  trial. 
When  the  hour  came,  and  Joseph  found  that  Philip  was 
inevitably  absent,  the  strength  he  had  summoned  to  his 
heart  seemed  to  waver  for  an  instant.  All  his  other  Mends 
were  present,  however :  Lucy  Henderson  and  Madeline  came 
with  the  Hopetons,  and  Elwood  Withers  stood  by  his  side  so 
boldly  and  proudly  that  he  soon  recovered  his  composure. 

The  court-room  was  crowded,  not  only  by  the  idlers  of 
the  town,  but  also  many  neighbors  from  the  country.  They 
were  grave  and  silent,  and  Joseph's  appearance  in  the  place 
allotted  to  the  accused  seemed  to  impress  them  painfully. 
The  preliminaries  occupied  some  time,  and  it  was  nearly 
noun  before  the  first  witness  was  called. 

This  was  the  physician.     He  stated,  in  a  clear,  business 


306  JOSEPH    AND    UIS   FRIEND. 

like  manner,  the  condition  in  which  he  found  Julia,  hi* 
discovery  of  the  poison,  and  the  unusual  character  of  ita 
operation,  adding  his  opinion  that  the  latter  was  owing  to  a 
long-continued  nervous  tension,  culminating  in  hysterical 
excitement.  Mr.  Spenham  questioned  him  very  closely  as 
to  Joseph's  demeanor,  and  his  expressions  before  and  after 
the  death.  The  point  of  attack  which  he  selected  was 
JukVs  exclamation :  "  Joseph,  I  will  try  to  be  different,  but 
I  must  live  for  that !  " 

"These  words,"  he  said,  "indicate  a  previous  threat  on 
the  part  of  the  accused.  His  helpless  victim — 

Mr.  Pinkerton  protested  against  the  epithet.  But  his 
antagonist  found  numberless  ways  of  seem'^sj  to  take  Jo- 
seph's guilt  for  granted,  and  thus  gradually  w>  mould  the 
pliant  minds  of  a  not  very  intelligent  jury.  The  physician 
was  subjected  to  a  rigid  cross-examination,  in  the  course  Oi 
which  he  was  led  to  state  that  he,  himself,  had  first  advised 
that  the  fact  of  the  poisoning  should  not  be  mentioned  until 
after  the  funeral.  The  onus  of  the  secrecy  was  thus  re- 
moved from  Joseph,  and  this  was  a  point  gained. 

The  next  witness  was  the  servant- woman,  who  had  been 
present  in  the  hall  when  Julia  fell  upon  the  landing  of  the 
staircase.  She  had  heard  the  words,  "  Go  away  !  you  have 
killed  me  !  "  spoken  in  a  shrill,  excited  voice.  She  had  al- 
ready guessed  that  something  was  wrong  between  the  two. 
Mr.  Asten  came  home  looking  quite  wild  and  strange ;  he 
lidn't  seem  to  speak  in  his  usual  voice ;  he  walked  about  in 
a  restless  way,  and  then  went  into  the  garden.  Miss  Lucy 
followed  him,  and  then  Mrs.  Asten ;  but  in  a  little  while  she 
came  back,  with  her  dress  torn  and  her  arms  scratched ;  she, 
the  witness,  noticed  this  as  Mrs.  Asten  passed  through  the 
ball,  tottering  as  she  went  and  with  her  fists  shut  tight. 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  807 

Th«m  Mr.  Aston  went  up  stairs  to  her  bedroom ;  heard  them 
speaking,  but  not  the  words ;  said  to  Sally,  who  was  in  the 
kitchen,  "It's  a  real  tiff  and  no  mistake,"  and  Sally  re 
marked,  "  They're  not  used  to  each  other  yet,  as  they  will 
be  in  a  year  or  two." 

The  witness  was  with  difficulty  kept  to  a  direct  narrative. 
She  had  told  the  tale  so  often  that  every  particular  had  its 
fixed  phrases  of  description,  and  all  the  questioning  on  both 
sides  called  forth  only  repetitions.  Joseph  listened  with  a 
calm,  patient  air;  nothing  had  yet  occurred  for  which  he 
was  not  prepared.  The  spectators,  however,  began  to  be 
deeply  interested,  and  a  sharp  observer  might  have  noticed 
that  they  were  already  taking  sides. 

Mr.  Pinkerton  soon  detected  that,  although  the  woman's 
Statements  told  against  Joseph,  she  possessed  no  friendly 
feeling  for  Julia.  He  endeavored  to  make  the  most  of  this ; 
but  it  was  not  much. 

When  Lucy  Henderson's  name  was  called,  there  was  a 
stir  of  curiosity  in  the  audience.  They  knew  that  the  con- 
ference in  the  garden,  from  which  Julia  had  returned  in 
such  an  excited  condition,  must  now  be  described.  Mr. 
Spenham  pricked  up  his  red  ears,  ran  his  hand  through  his 
stubby  haii1,  and  prepared  himself  for  battle ;  while  Mr. 
Pinkerton,  already  in  possession  of  all  the  facts,  felt  con- 
cerned only  regarding  ^he  manner  in  which  Lucy  might  give 
them.  This  was  a  "ase  where  so  much  depended  on  the  im 
pression  produced  by  the  individual ! 

By  the  time  Lucy  was  sworn  she  appeared  to  be  entirely  com- 
posed ;  her  face  was  slightly  pale,  but  calm,  and  her  voice 
steady.  Mrs.  Hope  ton  and  Madeline  Held  sat  near  her,  and 
El  wood  Withers,  leaning  against  a  high  railing,  was  nearly 
opposite. 


306  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

There  was  profound  silence  as  she  began,  and  the  interest 
increased  as  she  approaclied  the  time  of  Joseph's  return. 
She  described  his  appearance,  repeated  the  words  she  had 
heard,  reproduced  the  scene  in  her  own  chamber,  and  sc 
came,  step  by  step,  to  the  interview  in  the  garden.  The 
trying  nature  of  her  task  now  became  evident.  She  spoke 
slowly,  and  with  longer  pauses ;  but  whichever  way  she 
turned  in  her  thought,  the  inexorable  necessity  of  the  whole 
truth  stared  her  in  the  face. 

"  Must  I  repeat  everything  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  am  not 
sure  of  recollecting  the  words  precisely  as  they  were 
spoken." 

"  You  can  certainly  give  the  substance,"  said  Mr.  Spen  • 
ham.  "  And  be  careful  that  you  omit  nothing  :  you  are  on 
your  oath,  and  you  ought  to  know  what  that  means." 

His  words  were  loud  and  harsh.  Lucy  looked  at  the  im- 
passive face  of  the  judge,  at  Elwood's  earnest  features,  at 
the  attentive  jurymen,  and  went  on. 

When  she  came  to  Joseph's  expression  of  the  love  that 
might  have  been  possible,  she  gave  also  his  words :  "  Had 
there  been,  I  should  have  darkened  the  life  of  a  friend." 

"  Ha  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Spenham,  "  we  are  coming  upon 
the  motive  of  the  murder." 

Again  Mr.  Pinkerton  protested,  and  was  sustained  by  tbe 
court. 

"  Tell  the  jury,"  said  Mr.  Spenham,  "  whether  there  had 
been  any  interchange  of  such  expressions  between  you  and 
the  accused  previous  to  his  mai-riage  !  " 

This  question  was  objected  to,  but  the  objection  teaf 
overruled. 

"  None  whatevei  !  "  was  the  answer. 

Julia's  sudden  appearance,  the  accusation  she  made,  and 


JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FRIEND.  80S 

the  manner  in  which  Joseph  met  it,  seemed  to  turn  the 
current  of  sympathy  the  other  way.  Lucy's  recollection  of 
this  scene  was  very  clear  and  complete :  had  she  wished  it, 
she  could  not  have  forgotten  a  word  or  a  look.  In  spite  of 
Mr.  Spenham's  angry  objections,  she  was  allowed  to  go  on 
and  relate  the  conversation  between  Joseph  and  herself 
after  Julia's  return  to  the  house.  Mr.  Pinkerton  made  the 
best  use  of  this  portion  of  the  evidence,  and  it  seemed  that 
his  side  was  strengthened,  in  spite  of  all  unfavorable  appear- 
ances. 

"  This  is  not  all !  "  exclaimed  the  prosecuting  attorney. 
"  A  married  man  does  not  make  a  declaration  of  love — n 

"  Of  a  past  possible  love,"  Mr.  Pinker-ton  interrupted. 

"  A  very  fine  hair-splitting  indeed  1  A  '  possible '  love 
and  a  '  possible  '  return,  followed  by  a  '  possible '  murder 
and  a  '  possible '  remarriage  !  Our  duty  is  to  remove  possi- 
bilities and  establish  facts.  The  question  is,  "Was  there  no 
previous  affection  between  the  witness  and  the  accused  ? 
This  is  necessary  to  prove  a  motive.  I  ask,  then,  the 
woman — I  beg  pardon,  the  lady — what  were  her  sentiments 
towards  the  husband  of  the  poisoned  before  his  marriage,  at 
the  time  of  the  conversation  in  the  garden,  and  now  ?  " 

Lucy  started,  and  could  not  answer.  Mr.  Pinkerton 
came  to  her  aid.  He  protested  strongly  against  such  a 
question,  though  he  felt  that  there  was  equal,  danger  in 
answering  it  or  leaving  it  unanswered.  A  portion  of  the 
spectators,  sympathizing  with  Lucy,  felt  indignant  at  Mr. 
Spenham's  demand ;  another  portion,  hungry  for  the  most 
private  and  intimate  knowledge  of  all  the  parties  concerned, 
eagerly  hoped  that  it  would  be  acceded  to. 

Lucy  half  turned,  so  that  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  Joseph. 
He  was  oalm,  but  his  eyes  expressed  a  sympathetic  trouble. 


BlO  JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FKIEND. 

Then  she  felt  her  gaze  drawn  to  Elwood,  who  had  become  a 
shade  paler,  and  who  met  her  eyes  with  a  deep,  inscrutable 
expression.  Was  he  thinking  of  his  recent  words  to  her, — 
"  If  need  comes  to  publish  what  I  said  to  you,  don't  keep 
back  a  single  word ! "  She  felt  sure  of  it,  for  all  that  he 
said  was  in  her  mind.  Her  decision  was  made  :  for  truth's 
sake,  and  under  the  eye  of  God,  she  would  speak.  Having 
so  resolved,  she  shut  her  mind  to  all  else,  for  she  needed 
the  greatest  strength  of  either  woman  or  man. 

The  judge  had  decided  that  she  was  not  obliged  to  answer 
the  question.  There  was  a  murmur,  here  and  there,  among 
the  spectators. 

"  Then  I  will  use  my  freedom  of  choice,"  said  Lucy,  in  » 
firm  voice,  "  and  answer  it." 

She  kept  her  eyes  on  Elwood  as  she  spoke,  and  com- 
pelled him  to  face  her.  She  seemed  to  forget  judge,  jury, 
and  the  curious  public,  and  to  speak  only  to  his  ear. 

"  I  am  here  to  tell  the  whole  truth,  God  helping  me," 
she  said.  "  I  do  not  know  how  what  I  am  required  to  say 
can  touch  the  question  of  Joseph  Asten's  guilt  or  innocence ; 
but  I  cannot  paus«  to  consider  that.  It  is  not  easy  for  a 
woman  to  lay  bare  her  secret  heart  to  the  world ;  I  would 
like  to  think  that  every  man  who  hears  me  has  a  wife,  a 
sister,  or  a  beloved  girl  of  his  choice,  and  that  he  will  try  to 
understand  my  heart  through  his  knowledge  of  hers.  I  did 
cherish  a  tenderness  which  might  have  been  love-  I  cannot 
wll — for  Joseph  Asten  before  his  betrothal.  I  admit  that 
his  marriage  was  a  grief  to  me  at  the  time,  for,  while  I  had 
not  suffered  myself  to  feel  any  hope,  I  could  not  keep  the 
feeling  of  disappointment  out  of  my  heart.  It  was  both  my 
blame  and  shame  :  I  wrestled  with  it,  anu  -*ith  God's  help  I 
overcame  it." 


JO8EPU   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  81] 

There  was  a  simple  pathos  in  Lucy's  voice,  which  pierced 
directly  to  the  hearts  of  her  hearers.  She  stood  before  them 
as  pure  as  Godiva  in  her  helpful  nakedness.  She  saw  on 
Elwood's  cbeek  the  blush  which  did  not  visit  hers,  and  the 
sparkle  of  an  unconscious  tear.  Joseph  had  hidden  his  face 
in  his  hands  for  a  moment,  but  now  looked  up  with  a  sad 
ness  which  no  man  there  could  misinterpret. 

Lucy  had  paused,  as  if  waiting  to  be  questioned,  but  the 
efi'ect  of  her  words  had  been  so  powerful  and  unexpected 
that  Mr.  Spenham  was  not  quite  ready.  She  went  on:  — 

"  When  I  say  that  I  overcame  it,  I  think  I  have  answered 
everything.  I  went  to  him  in  the  garden  against  my  own 
wish,  because  his  wife  begged  me  with  tears  and  sobs  to  in- 
tercede for  her :  I  could  not  guess  that  he  had  ever  thought 
of  me  otherwise  than  as  a  friend.  I  attributed  bis  expres- 
sions to  his  disappointment  in  marriage,  and  pardoned  him 
when  he  asked  me  to  forget  them — " 

"  O,  no  doubt !  "  Mr.  Spenham  interrupted,  looking  at  the 
jury  ;  "  after  all  we  have  heard,  they  could  not  have  been 
very  disagreeable  ! " 

Elwood  made  a  rapid  step  forward ;  then,  recollecting 
himself,  resumed  his  position  against  the  railing.  Very  few 
persons  noticed  the  movement. 

"  They  were  very  unwelcome,"  Lucy  replied :  "  under  any 
other  circumstances,  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  forgive 
them." 

"  And  this  former — '  tenderness,'  I  think  you  called  it," 
Mr.  Spenham  persisted,  "  — do  you  mean  to  say  that  you 
feel  nothing  of  it  at  present  ?  " 

There  was  a  murmur  of  indignation  all  over  th«»  room. 
If  there  is  anything  utterly  incomprehensible  to  a  vulgar 
nature,  it  is  tho  natural  delicacy  of  feeling  towards  women, 


312  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

which  is  rarely  wanting  even  to  the  roughest  and  most  igno- 
rant men.  The  prosecution  had  damaged  itself,  and  no'W 
the  popular  sympathy  was  wholly  and  strongly  with  Lucy. 

"  [  have  already  answered  that  question,"  she  said.  "  Foi 
the  holy  sake  of  truth,  and  of  my  own  free-will,  I  have 
opened  my  heart.  I  did  it,  believing  that  a  woman's  first 
affection  is  pure,  and  would  be  respected  ;  I  did  it,  hoping 
that  it  might  serve  the  cause  of  an  innocent  man  ;  but  now, 
since  it  has  brought  upon  me  doubt  and  insult,  I  shall  avail 
myself  of  the  liberty  granted  to  me  by  the  judge,  and  speak 
no  word  more  !  " 

The  spectators  broke  into  applause,  which  the  judge  did 
oot  immediately  check.  Lucy's  strength  suddenly  left  her ; 
she  dropped  into  her  seat  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  I  have  no  further  question  to  ask  the  witness,"  said 
Mr.  Pinkerton. 

Mr.  Spenham  inwardly  cursed  himself  for  his  blunder, — 
not  for  his  vulgarity,  for  of  that  he  was  sublimely  uncon 
scious, — and  was  only  too  ready  to  be  relieved  from  Lucy's 
presence. 

She  rose  to  leave  the  court,  Mrs.  Hopeton  accompanying 
her ;  but  Elwood  Withers  was  already  at  her  side,  and  she 
leaned  upon  his  arm  as  they  passed  through  the  crowd.  The 
people  fell  back  to  make  a  way,  and  not  a  few  whispered 
some  honest  word  of  encouragement.  Elwood  breathed 
heavily,  and  the  veins  on  his  forehead  were  swollen. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  until  they  reached  the  hotel. 
Then  Lucy,  taking  Elwood's  hand,  said  :  "  Thank  you,  true, 
dear  friend  !  I  can  say  no  more  now.  Go  back,  for  Joseph's 
sake,  and  when  the  day  is  over  come  here  and  tell  me,  if 
jrou  can,  that  I  have  not  injured  him  in  trying  to  help  him." 

When  Elwood  returned  to  the  court-room,  Rachel  Miller 


JOSEPH    AJSTD    HIS    FRIEND.  313 

was  on  the  witness  stand.  Her  testimony  confirmed  the 
interpretation  of  Julia's  character  which  had  been  suggested 
by  Lucy  Henderson's.  The  sweet,  amiable,  suffering  wife 
began  to  recede  into  the  background,  and  the  cold,  false, 
selfish  wife  to  take  her  place. 

All  Mr.  Spenham's  cross-examination  failed  to  give  the 
prosecution  any  support  until  he  asked  the  question  : — 

"  Have  you  discovered  nothing  whatever,  since  your  re- 
turn to  the  house,  which  will  throw  any  light  upon  Mrs. 
Asten's  death  ?  " 

Mr.  Pinkerton,  El  wood,  and  Madeline  all  felt  that  the 
critical  moment  had  come.  Philip's  absence  threatened  to 
be  a  serious  misfortune. 

"  Yes,"  Rachel  Miller  answered. 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  the  prosecuting  attorney,  rubbing  hie 
hair ;  "  what  was  it  ?  " 

"  The  paper  in  which  the  arsenic  was  put  up." 

"  Will  you  produce  that  paper  ?  "  he  eagerly  asked. 

"  I  cannot  now,"  said  Rachel ;  "  I  gave  it  to  Mr.  Philip 
Held,  so  that  he  might  find  out  something  more." 

Joseph  listened  with  a  keen,  undisguised  interest.  After 
the  first  feeling  of  surprise  that  such  an  important  event 
had  been  kept  from  his  knowledge,  his  confidence  in  Philip's 
judgment  reassured  him. 

"  Has  Mr.  Philip  Held  destroyed  that  paper  ?  "  Mr.  Spen- 
ham  asked. 

"  He  retains  it,  and  will  produce  it  before  this  court  to- 
morrow," Mr.  Pinkerton  replied. 

"  Was  there  any  mark,  or  label,  upon  it,  which  indicated 
the  place  where  the  poison  had  been  procured  ?  " 

«  Yes,"  said  Rachel  Miller. 

"  State  what  it  was." 
14 


314  JOSEPH   AND   HT8   FRIEND. 

"  Ziba  Linthicum's  drug-store,  No.  77  Main  Street,  Mag- 
nolia," she  replied,  as  if  the  label  were  before  her  eyes. 

"  Let  Ziba  Lmthicum  be  summoned  at  once  !  "  Mr.  Spen- 
ham  cried. 

Mr.  Pinkerton,  however,  arose  and  stated  that  the  apo- 
thecary's testimony  required  that  of  another  person  who  waa 
present  when  the  poison  was  purchased.  This  other  person 
had  been  absent  in  a  distant  part  of  the  country,  but  had 
been  summoned,  and  would  arrive,  in  company  with  Mr. 
Philip  Held,  on  the  following  morning.  He  begged  that 
Mr.  Linthicxim's  evidence  might  be  postponed  until  then, 
when  he  believed  that  the  mystery  attending  the  poisoning 
would  be  wholly  explained. 

Mr.  Spenham  violently  objected,  but  he  again  made  the 
mistake  of  speaking  for  nearly  half  an  hour  on  the  subject, 
— an  indiscretion  into  which  he  was  led  by  his  confirmed 
political  habits.  By  the  time  the  question  was  decided,  and 
in  favor  of  the  defence,  the  afternoon  was  well  advanced, 
dud  the  court  adjourned  until  the  next  day. 


JOSEPH    AND    HIS    FRIEND.  315 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

NEW   EVIDENCE. 

ELWOOD  accompanied  Joseph  to  the  prison  where  he  WM 
obliged  to  spend  the  night,  and  was  allowed  to  remain  with 
him.  until  Mr.  Pinker-ton  (who  was  endeavoring  to  reach 
Philip  by  telegraph)  should  arrive. 

Owing  to  Rachel  Miller's  forethought,  the  bare  room  was 
sufficiently  furnished.  There  was  a  clean  bed,  a  chair  or 
two,  and  a  table,  upon  which  stood  a  basket  of  provisions. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  eat,"  said  Joseph,  "  as  a  matter  of 
duty.  If  you  will  sit  down  and  join  me,  Elwood,  I  will 
try." 

"  If  I  could  have  that  fellow  Spenham  by  the  throat  for 
a  minute,"  Elwood  growled,  "  it  would  give  me  a  good  appe- 
tite. But  I  will  take  my  share,  as  it  is :  I  never  can  think 
rightly  when  I'm  hxingry.  Why,  there  is  enough  for  a  pic- 
nic !  sandwiches,  cold  chicken,  pickles,  cakes,  cheese,  and 
two  bottles  of  coffee,  as  I  live  !  Just  think  that  we're  in  a 
hotel,  Joseph  !  It's  all  in  one's  notion,  leastways  for  a  sin- 
gle night ;  for  you  can  go  where  you  like  to-morrow  !  " 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Joseph,  as  he  took  his  seat.  Elwood 
set  the  provisions  before  him,  but  he  did  not  touch  them. 
A  fter  a  moment  of  hesitation  he  stretched  out  his  hand  and 
laid  it  on  El  wood's  shoulder. 

"  Now,  old  boy  !  "  Elwood  cried :  "  I  know  it  Wh«l 
yon  mean  is  unnecessary,  and  I  won't  have  it  I " 

u  Let  me  speak  1 " 


816  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  shcnild,  Joseph.  It's  no  more  than  1 
guessed.  She  <lidn't  love  me :  you  were  tolerably  near  to- 
gether once,  and  if  you  should  now  come  nearer — " 

But  he  could  not  finish  the  sentence ;  the  words  stuck  in 
his  throat. 

"  Great  Heaven  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed,  starting  to  his  feet ; 
"  what  are  you  thinking  of?  Don't  you  see  that  Lucy  Hen- 
derson and  I  are  parted  forever  by  what  has  happened  to-day  ? 
Didn't  you  hear  her  say  that  she  overcame  the  tenderness 
which  might  have  become  love,  as  I  overcame  mine  for  her  ? 
Neither  of  us  can  recall  that  first  feeling,  any  more  than  we 
can  set  our  lives  again  in  the  past.  I  shall  worship  her  as 
one  of  the  purest  and  noblest  souls  that  breathe;  but  love 
her  ?  make  her  my  wife  ?  It  could  never,  never  be !  No, 
Elwood !  I  was  wondering  whether  you  could  pardon  me 
the  rashness  which  has  exposed  her  to  to-day's  trial." 

Elwood  began  to  laugh  strangely.  "  You  are  foolish,  Jo- 
seph," he  said.  "  Pshaw !  I  can't  hold  my  knife.  These 
sudden  downs  and  then  ups  are  too  much  for  a  fellow  ! 
Pardon  you?  Yes,  on  one  condition — that  you  empty 
your  plate  before  you  speak  another  word  to  me  !  " 

They  were  both  cheerful  after  this,  and  the  narrow  little 
room  seemed  freer  and  brighter  to  their  eyes.  It  was  late 
before  Mr.  Pinkerton  arrived  :  he  had  waited  in  vain  for  an 
answer  from  Philip.  Elwood's  presence  was  a  relief  to  him, 
for  he  did  not  wish  to  excite  Joseph  by  a  statement  of  what 
he  expected  to  prove  unless  the  two  witnesses  had  been  really 
secured.  He  adroitly  managed,  however,  to  say  very  little 
while  seeming  to  say  a  great  deal,  and  Joseph  was  then  left 
to  sucl  rest  as  his  busy  memory  might  allow  him. 

Next  morning  there  was  an  even  greater  crowd  in  the 
court-room.  All  Joseph's  friends  were  there,  with  the  ex- 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  317 

eeption  of  Lucy  Henderson,  who,  by  Mr.  Pinkerton's  advice 
remained  at  the  hotel.  Philip  had  not  arrived,  but  had  sent 
a  message  saying  that  all  was  well,  and  he  would  come  in  the 
morning  train. 

Mr.  Spenham,  the  evening  before,  had  ascertained  the 
nature  of  Mr.  Linthicum's  evidence.  The  apothecary,  how- 
ever,  was  only  able  to  inform  him  of  Philip's  desire  to  dis- 
cover the  travelling  agent,  without  knowing  his  purpose.  In 
the  name  recorded  as  that  of  the  purchaser  of  the  poison  Mr. 
Spenham  saw  a  weapon  which  would  enable  him  to  repay  Lucy 
for  his  discomfiture,  and  to  indicate,  if  not  prove,  a  com- 
plicity of  crime,  in  which  Philip  Held  also,  he  suspected, 
might  be  concerned. 

The  court  opened  at  nine  o'clock,  and  Philip  could  not  be 
on  hand  before  ten.  Mr.  Pinkerton  endeavored  to  procure 
the  examination  of  Dennis,  and  another  subordinate  witness, 
before  the  apothecary ;  but  he  only  succeeded  in  gaining 
fifteen  minutes'  time  by  the  discussion.  Mr.  Ziba  Linthicum 
was  then  called  and  sworn.  He  carried  a  volume  under  his 
arm. 

As  Philip  possessed  the  label,  Mr.  Linthicum  could  only 
testify  to  the  fact  that  a  veiled  lady  had  purchased  so  many 
grains  of  arsenic  of  him  on  a  certain  day ;  that  he  kept  a  re- 
cord of  all  sales  of  dangerous  drugs  ;  and  that  the  lady's  name 
was  recorded  in  the  book  which  he  had  brought  with  him. 
He  then  read  the  entry : — 

"  Miss  Henderson.     Arsenic." 

Although  Mr.  Pinkerton  had  whispered  to  Joseph,  "  Do 
not  be  startled  when  he  reads  the  name ! "  it  was  all  the 
hitter  could  do  to  suppress  an  exclamation.  There  was  a 
murmur  and  movement  through  the  whole  court. 

"  We  have  now  both  the  motive  and  the  co-agent  of  th« 


318  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

crime,"  said  Mr.  Spenham,  rising  triumphs  tly.  "  After  tke 
evidence  which  was  elicited  yesterday,  it  will  not  be  difficult 
to  connect  the  two.  If  the  case  deepens  in  enormity  as  it 
advances,  we  may  be  shocked,  but  we  have  no  reason  to 
be  surprised.  The  growth  of  free-love  sentiments,  among 
those  who  tear  themselves  lo  )se  from  the  guidance  of  religious 
influences,  naturally  leads  to  crime ;  and  the  extent  to  which 
this  evil  has  been  secretly  developed  is  not  suspected  by  the 
public.  Testimony  can  be  adduced  to  show  that  the  ac 
cused.  Joseph  Asten,  has  openly  expressed  his  infidelity  ;  that 
he  repelled  with  threats  and  defiance  a  worthy  minister  of 
the  Gospel,  whom  his  own  pious  murdered  wife  had  commis- 
sioned to  lead  him  into  the  true  path.  The  very  expression 
which  the  woman  Lucy  Henderson  testified  to  his  having 
used  in  the  garden, —  '  I  am  sick  of  masks,' — what  does  it 
mean  ?  What  but  unrestrained  freedom  of  the  passions, — the 
very  foundation  upon  which  the  free-lovers  build  up  their 
pernicious  theories  ?  The  accused  cannot  complain  if  the 
law  lifts  the  mask  from  his  countenance,  and  shows  his  nature 
in  all  its  hideous  deformity.  But  another  mask,  also,  must 
be  raised :  I  demand  the  arrest  of  the  woman  Lucy  Hender- 
son!" 

Mr.  Pinkerton  sprang  to  his  feet.  In  a  measured,  solemn 
voice,  which  contrasted  strongly  with  the  lo\id,  sharp  tones 
of  the  prosecuting  attorney,  he  stated  that  Mr.  Linthicum's 
evidence  was  already  known  to  him ;  that  it  required  an 
explanation  which  would  now  be  given  in  a  few  minutes, 
and  which  would  completely  exonerate  Miss  Henderson  from 
the  suspicion  of  having  purchased  the  poison,  or  even  hav- 
ing any  knowledge  of  its  purchase.  He  demanded  that  nc 
conclusion  should  be  drawn  from  evidence  which  would  mi« 
lead  the  minds  of  the  jury:  ho  charged  the  prosecuting 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  81G 

attorney  with  most  unjustly  assailing  the  characters  of  both 
Joseph  Asten  and  Lucy  Henderson,  and  invoked,  in  the 
name  of  impartial  justice,  the  protection  of  the  court. 

He  spoke  both  eloquently  and  earnestly ;  but  the  specta- 
tors noticed  that  he  looked  at  his  watch  from  minute  tc 
minute.  Mr.  Spenham  interrupted  him,  but  he  continued 
to  repeat  his  statements,  until  there  came  a  sudden  move- 
ment in  the  crowd,  near  the  outer  door  of  the  hall.  Then 
he  sat  down. 

Philip  led  the  way,  pressing  the  crowd  to  right  and  left  in 
his  eagerness.  He  was  followed  by  a  tall  young  man,  with 
a  dark  moustache  and  an  abundance  of  jewelry,  while  Mr. 
Benjamin  Blessing,  flushed  and  pei-spiring,  brought  up  the 
rear.  The  spectators  were  almost  breathless  in  their  hushed, 
excited  interest. 

Philip  seized  Joseph's  hand,  and,  bending  nearer,  whis-- 
pered,  "  You  are  free ! "     His  eyes  sparkled  and  his  face 
glowed. 

Room  was  made  for  the  three  witnesses,  and  after  a  brief 
whispered  consultation  between  Philip  and  Mr.  Pinkerton, 
Elwood  was  despatched  to  bring  Lucy  Henderson  to  the 
court. 

"  May  it  please  the  Court,"  said  Mr.  Pinkerton,  "  I  am 
now  able  to  fulfil  that  promise  which  I  this  moment  made. 
The  evidence  which  was  necessary  to  set  forth  the  manner  of 
Mrs.  Asten's  death,  and  which  will  release  the  court  from 
any  further  consideration  of  the  present  case,  is  in  my  hands. 
I  therefore  ask  leave  to  introduce  this  evidence  without  any 
further  delay." 

After  a  little  discussion  the  permission  was  granted,  and 
Philip  Held  was  placed  upon  the  stand. 

He  first  described  Joseph's  genuine  sorrow  at  his  wife'i 


320  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRTTCNB 

death,  and  his  self-accusation  of  having  hastened  it  by  hi* 
harsh  words  to  her  in  the  morning.  He  related  the  inter- 
view at  which  Joseph,  on  learning  of  the  reports  concerning 
him,  had  immediately  decided  to  ask  for  a  legal  investiga- 
tion, and  in  a  simple,  straightforward  way,  narrated  all  that 
had  been  done  up  to  the  time  of  consulting  Ziba  Linthicum's 
poison  record. 

"As  I  knew  it  to  be  quite  impossible  that  Miss  Lucy 
Henderson  could  have  been  the  purchaser,"  he  began  — 

Mr.  Spenham  instantly  objected,  and  the  expression  was 
ruled  out  by  the  Court. 

"  Then,"  Philip  resumed,  "  I  determined  to  ascertain  who 
had  purchased  the  arsenic.  Mr.  Linthicum's  description 
of  the  lady  was  too  vague  to  be  recognized.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  identify  the  travelling  agent  who  was  present ;  for 
this  purpose  I  went  to  the  city,  ascertained  the  names  and 
addresses  of  all  the  travelling  agents  of  all  the  wholesale  drug 
firms,  and  after  much  time  and  correspondence  discovered 
the  man, — Mr.  Case,  who  is  here  present.  He  was  in  Per- 
Bepolis,  Iowa,  when  the  summons  reached  him,  and  would 
have  been  here  yesterday  but  for  an  accident  on  the  Erie 
Railway. 

"  In  the  mean  time  I  had  received  the  small  fragment  of 
another  label,  and  by  the  clew  which  the  few  letters  gave  me 
I  finally  identified  the  place  as  the  drug-store  of  Wallis  and 
Erkers,  at  the  corner  of  Fifth  and  Persimmon  Streets. 
There  was  nothing  left  by  which  the  nature  of  the  drug 
could  be  ascertained,  and  therefore  this  movement  led  to 
nothing  which  could  be  offered  as  evidence  in  this  coui-t, — 
that  is,  by  the  druggists  themselves,  and  they  have  not  been 
summoned.  It  happened,  however,  by  a  coincidence  is  hick 
only  came  to  light  this?  morning,  that — " 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  831 

Here  Philip  was  again  interrupted.  His  further  testi- 
mony was  of  less  consequence.  He  was  sharply  cross-ex- 
amined by  Mr.  Spenham  as  to  his  relations  with  Joseph,  and 
his  object  in  devoting  so  much  time  to  procuring  evidence 
for  the  defence ;  but  he  took  occasion,  in  replying,  to  express 
his  appreciation  of  Joseph's  character  so  emphatically,  that 
the  prosecution  lost  rather  than  gained.  Then  the  plan  ol 
attack  was  changed.  He  was  asked  whether  he  believed  in 
the  Bible,  in  future  rewards  and  punishments,  in  the  views 
of  the  so-called  free-lovers,  in  facile  divorce  and  polygamy. 
He  was  too  shrewd,  however,  to  lay  himself  open  to  the 
least  misrepresentation,  and  the  moral  and  mental  torture 
which  our  jurisprudence  has  sxibstituted  for  the  rack, 
thumb-screws,  and  Spanish  boots  of  the  Middle  Ages  finally 
came  to  an  end. 

Then  the  tall  young  man,  conscious  of  his  own  elegance, 
took  his  place.  He  gave  his  name  and  occupation  as 
Augustus  Fitzwilliam  Case,  commercial  traveller  for  the 
house  of  Byle  and  Glanders,  wholesale  druggists. 

"  State  whether  you  were  in  the  drug-store  of  Ziba  Lin 
thicum,  No.  77  Main  Street,  in  this  town,  on  the  day  of  the 
entry  in  Mr.  Linthicum's  book." 

"  I  was." 

"Did  you  notice  the  person  who  called  for  arsenic?" 

"  I  did." 

"  What  led  you  specially  to  notice  her  ?  " 

"  It  is  my  habit,"  said  the  witness.  "  I  am  impressible  to 
beauty,  and  I  saw  at  once  that  the  lady  had  what  I  call — 
jtyle.  I  recollect  thinking,  '  More  style  than  could  be 
expected  in  these  little  places.' " 

"Keep  your  thoughts  to  yourself  1"  cried  Mr.  Spot 
'iam. 

u* 


JOSEPH   AND   HT8   FRIEND. 

"Describe  the  lady  as  correctly  as  you  can,"  said  Mi 
Pinkerton. 

"  Something  under  the  medium  size ;  a  little  thin,  hut  noi 
bad  lines, — what  I  should  call  jimp,  natty,  or  '  lissome,'  in 
the  Scotch  dialect.  A  well -trained  voice;  no  uncertainty 
about  it, — altogether  about  as  keen  and  wide-awake  a 
woman  as  you'll  find  in  a  day's  travel." 

"  You  guessed  all  this  from  her  figure  ?  "  Mr.  Spenham 
asked,  with  a  sneer.  ' 

"  Not  entirely.  I  saw  her  face.  I  suppose  something  in 
my  appearance  or  attitude  attracted  her  attention.  While 
Mr.  Linthicum  was  weighing  the  arsenic  she  leaned  over  the 
counter,  let  her  veil  fall  forward  slightly,  and  gave  me  a 
quick  side-look.  I  bent  a  little  at  the  same  time,  as  if  to 
examine  the  soaps,  and  saw  her  face  in  a  three-quarter  posi- 
tion, as  the  photographers  say." 

"  Can  yon  remember  her  features  distinctly  ?  " 

"  Quite  so.  In  fact,  it  is  difficult  for  me  to  forget  a 
female  face.  Hers  was  just  verging  on  the  sharp,  but  still 
tolerably  handsome.  Hair  quite  dark,  and  worn  in  ringlets ; 
eyebrows  clean  and  straight ;  mouth  a  little  too  thin  for  my 
fancy;  and  eyes — well,  I  couldn't  undertake  to  say  exactly 
what  color  they  were,  for  she  seemed  to  have  the  trick — 
very  common  in  the  city — of  letting  the  lids  droop  over 
them." 

"  Were  you  able  to  judge  of  her  age  ?" 

"  Tolerably,  I  should  say.  There  is  a  certain  air  of  preser- 
vation which  enables  a  practised  eye  to  distinguish  an  old 
girl  from  a  young  one.  She  was  certainly  not  to  be  called 
young, — somewhere  between  twenty-eight  and  thirty-five/' 

"  You  heard  the  name  she  gave  Mr.  Linthicum  ?  " 
"Distinctly.     Mr.  Linthicum  politely  stated  that  it  wa* 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FfiJEND. 

his  custom  to  register  the  names  of  all  those  to  whom  he 
furnished  either  poisons  or  prescriptions  requiring  care  in 
being  administered.  She  said,  'You  are  very  particular, 
sir ; '  and,  a  moment  afterward,  '  Pardon  me,  perhaps  it  if 
necessary.' — '  What  name,  then  ?  '  he  asked.  I  thought  she 
hesitated  a  moment,  but  this  I  will  not  say  positively; 
whether  or  not,  the  answer  was,  'Miss  Henderson.'  She 
went  out  of  the  store  with  a  light,  brisk  step." 

"  You  are  sure  you  would  be  able  to  recognize  the  lady?" 
Mr.  Pinkertou  asked. 

"  Quite  sure."  And  Mr.  Augustus  Fitzwilliam  Case 
smiled  patronizingly,  as  if  the  question  were  superfluous. 

Mr.  Pinkerton  made  a  sign  to  Lucy,  and  she  arose. 

"  Look  upon  this  lady  !  "  he  said  to  the  witness. 

The  latter  made  a  slight,  graceful  inclination  of  his  head, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  Pardon  me,  I  am  compelled  to  stare," 
Lucy  quietly  endured  his  gaze. 

"  Consider  her  well,"  said  the  lawyer,  "  and  then  tell  the 
jury  whether  she  is  the  person." 

"  No  considorment  is  necessary.  This  lady  has  not  the 
slightest  resemblance  to  Miss  Henderson.  She  is  younger, 
taller,  and  modelled  upon  a  wholly  different  stvie." 

"  Will  you  now  look  at  this  photograph  ? "" 

"  Ah  !  "  the  witness  exclaimed ;  "  you  can  yourself  judge 
of  the  correctness  of  my  memory !  Here  is  Miss  Hender- 
son herself,  and  in  three-quarter  face,  as  I  saw  her  !  " 

"That,"  said  Mr.  Pinkerton,  addressing  the  judge  and 
jury,  "  that  is  the  photograph  of  Mrs.  Julia  Asten." 

The  spectators  were  astounded,  and  Mr.  Spenham  taken 
completely  aback  by  this  revelation.  Joseph  and  Elwood 
both  felt  that  a  great  weight  had  been  lifted  from  their 
hearts.  The  testimony  established  Julia's  falsehood  at  the 


324  JOSEPH   AOT)   HIS   FEIKND. 

same  time,  and  there  was  such  an  instant  and  complete 
revulsion  of  opinion  that  many  persons  present  at  once  sus- 
pected her  of  a  design  to  poison  Joseph. 

"  Before  calling  upon  Mr.  Benjamin  Blessing,  the  fathei 
of  the  late  Mrs.  Asten,  for  his  testimony,"  said  Mr.  Pinker- 
ton, — "  and  I  believe  he  will  be  the  last  witness  necessary, — 
I  wish  to  show  that,  although  Miss  Lucy  Henderson  accom- 
panied Mrs.  Asten  to  Magnolia,  she  could  not  have  visited 
Mr.  Linthicum's  drug-store  at  the  time  indicated;  nor, 
indeed,  at  any  time  during  that  day.  She  made  several  calls 
upon  friends,  each  of  whom  is  now  in  attendance,  and  their 
joint  evidence  will  account  for  every  minute  of  her  stay  in 
the  place.  The  base  attempt  to  blacken  her  fair  name  im- 
peratively imposes  this  duty  upon  me." 

No  objection  was  made,  and  the  witnesses  were  briefly 
examined  in  succession.  Their  testimony  was  complete. 

"  One  mystery  still  remains  to  be  cleared  up,"  the  lawyer 
continued ;  "  the  purpose  of  Mrs.  Asten  in  purchasing  the 
poison,  and  the  probable  explanation  of  her  death.  I  say 
*  probable,'  because  absolute  certainty  is  impossible.  But  I 
*nll  not  anticipate  the  evidence.  Mr.  Benjamin  Blessing, 
rtep  forward,  if  you  please  1 " 


JOfKPH   AND   HIS    FRIEND  325 


CHAPTEK  XXX. 

MR.  BLESSING'S  TESTIMONY. 

ON  entering  the  court-room  Mr.  Blessing  had  gone  to 
Joseph,  given  his  hand  a  long,  significant  grasp,  and  looked 
in  his  face  with  an  expression  of  triumph,  almost  of  exulta- 
tion. The  action  was  not  lost  upon  the  spectators  or  the 
jury,  and  even  Joseph  felt  that  it  was  intended  to  express 
the  strongest  faith  in  his  innocence. 

When  the  name  was  called  there  was  a  movement  in  the 
crowd,  and  a  temporary  crush  in  some  quarters,  as  the  peo- 
ple thrust  forward  their  heads  to  see  and  listen.  Mr.  Bless- 
ing, bland,  dignified,  serene,  feeling  that  he  was  the  central 
point  of  interest,  waited  until  quiet  had  been  restored, 
slightly  turning  his  head  to  either  side,  as  if  to  summon 
special  attention  to  what  he  should  say. 

After  being  sworn,  and  stating  his  name,  he  thus  described 
his  occupation : — 

"  I  hold  a  position  under  government ;  nominally,  it  is  a 
Deputy  Inspectorship  in  the  Custom-House,  yet  it  possesses 
a  confidential — I  might  say,  if  modesty  did  not  prevent,  an 
advisory — character." 

"  In  other  words,  a  Ward  Politician  !  "  said  Mr.  Spen- 
ham. 

"  I  must  ask  the  prosecuting  attorney,"  Mr.  Blessing 
blandly  suggested,  "  not  to  define  my  place  according  to  his 
own  political  experiences." 

There  was  a  general  smile  at  these  words;  and  a  very 


326  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

audible  chuckle  from  spectators  belonging  to  the  opposite 
party. 

"  You  are  the  father  of  the  late  Mrs.  Julia  Asten  ?  w 

"  I  am — her  unhappy  father,  whom  nothing  but  the  im- 
perious commands  of  justice,  and  the  knowledge  of  her 
husband's  innocence  of  the  crime  with  which  he  stands 
charged,  could  have  compelled  to  appear  here,  and  reveal 
the  painful  secrets  of  a  family,  which — " 

Here  Mr.  Spenham  interrupted  him. 

"  I  merely  wish  to  observe,"  Mr.  Blessing  continued,  with 
a  stately  wave,  of  his  hand  towards  the  judge  and  jury,  "  that 
the  De  Belsains  and  their  descendants  may  have  been  fre- 
quently unfortunate,  but  were  never  dishonorable.  I  act  in 
their  spirit  when  I  hold  duty  to  the  innocent  living  higher 
than  consideration  for  the  unfortunate  dead." 

Here  he  drew  forth  a  handkerchief,  and  held  it  for  a 
moment  to  his  eyes. 

"  Did  you  know  of  any  domestic  discords  between  your 
daughter  and  her  husband  ?  " 

"  I  foresaw  that  such  might  be,  and  took  occasion  to  warn 
my  daughter,  on  her  wedding-day,  not  to  be  too  sure  of  her 
influence.  There  was  too  much  disparity  of  age,  character, 
iuad  experience.  It  could  not  be  called  crabbed  age  and 
rosy  youth,  but  there  was  difference  enough  to  justify  Shake- 
speare's doubts.  I  am  aware  that  the  court  requires  ocular 
—or  auricular — evidence.  The  only  such  I  have  to  offer  is 
my  son-in-law's  own  account  of  the  discord  which  preceded 
my  daughter's  death." 

"  Did  this  discord  sufficiently  explain  to  you  the  cause 
and  manner  of  her  death  ?  " 

"  My  daughter's  nature — I  do  not  mean  to  digress,  but 
am  accustomed  to  state  my  views  clearly — my  daughter'* 


JOSEPH  AND  HIS  FRIEND.  327 

nature  was  impulsive.  She  inherited  my  own  intellect,  but 
modified  by  the  peculiar  character  of  the  feminine  nervous 
system.  Hence  she  might  succumb  to  a  depression  which  2 
should  resist.  She  appeared  to  be  sure  of  her  control  over 
my  son-in-law's  nature,  and  of  success  in  an  enterprise  in 
which — I  regret  to  say— my  son-in-law  lost  confidence.  I 
assumed,  at  the  time,  that  her  usually  capable  mind  was 
unbalanced  by  the  double  disappointment,  and  that  she  had 
rushed,  unaneled,  to  her  last  account.  This,  I  say,  was  the 
conclusion  forced  upon  me ;  yet  1  cannot  admit  that  it  was 
satisfactory.  It  seemed  to  disparage  my  daughter's  intellec- 
tual power :  it  was  not  the  act  which  I  should  have  antici- 
pated in  any  possible  emergency." 

"  Had  you  no  suspicion  that  her  husband  might  have 
been  instrumental  ?  "  Mr.  Spenham  asked. 

"  He  ?  he  is  simply  incapable  of  that,  or  any  crime  I  " 

"  We  don't  want  assertions,"  said  Mr.  Spenham,  sternly. 

"  I  beg  pardon  of  the  court,"  remarked  Mr.  Blessing;  ait 
was  a  spontaneous  expression.  The  touch  of  nature  cannot 
always  be  avoided." 

"  Go  on,  sir  1  " 

"  I  need  not  describe  the  shock  and  sorrow  following  my 
daughter's  death,"  Mr.  Blessing  continued,  again  applying 
his  handkerchief.  "  In  order  to  dissipate  it,  I  obtained  a 
leave  of  absence  from  my  post, — the  exigencies  of  the  gov- 
ernment fortunately  admitting  of  it, — and  made  a  journey 
to  the  Oil  Regions,  in  the  interest  of  myself  and  my  son-in- 
law.  While  there  I  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Philip  Held, 
the  contents  of  which — " 

"Will  you  produce  the  letter?"  Mr.  Spenham  ex- 
claimed. 

"  It  can  be  produced,  if  necessary.     I  will  state  nothing 


328  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

further,  since  I  perceive  that  this  would  not  be  admissible 
evidence.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  I  returned  to  the  city 
without  delay,  in  order  to  meet  Mr.  Philip  Held.  The  re- 
quirements of  justice  were  more  potent  with  me  than  the 
suggestions  of  personal  interest.  Mr.  Held  had  already,  as 
you  will  have  noticed  from  his  testimony,  identified  the 
fragment  of  paper  as  having  emanated  from  the  drug-store 
of  Wallis  and  Erkers,  corner  of  Fifth  and  Persimmon 
Streets.  I  accompanied  him  to  that  drug-store,  heard  the 
statements  of  the  proprietors,  in  answer  to  Mr.  Held's  ques- 
tions,— statements  which,  I  confess,  surprised  me  immeas- 
urably (but  I  could  not  reject  the  natural  deductions  to  be 
drawn  from  them),  and  was  compelled,  although  it  over- 
whelmed me  with  a  sense  of  unmerited  shame,  to  acknow 
ledge  that  there  was  plausibility  in  Mr.  Held's  conjectures. 
Since  they  pointed  to  my  elder  daughter,  Clementina,  now 
Mrs.  Spelter,  and  at  this  moment  tossing  upon  the  ocean- 
wave,  I  saw  that  Mr.  Held  might  possess  a  discernment  su- 
perior to  my  own.  But  for  a  lamentable  cataclysm,  he 
might  have  been  my  son-in-law,  and  I  need  not  say  that  I 
prefer  that  refinement  of  character  which  comes  of  good  blood 
to  the  possession  of  millions — " 

Here  Mr.  Blessing  was  again  interrupted,  and  ordered  to 
confine  himself  to  the  simple  statement  of  the  necessary 
facts. 

"  I  acknowledge  the  justice  of  the  rebuke,"  he  said.  "  But 
the  sentiment  of  the  men*  conscia  recti  will  sometimes  ob- 
trude through  the  rigid  formula  of  Themis.  In  short,  Mr. 
Philip  Held's  representations — " 

"  State  those  representations  at  once,  and  be  done  with 
them  I  "  Mr.  Spenham  cried. 

u  I  am  coming  to  them  presently.     The  Honorable  Court 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

understands,  I  am  convinced,  that  a  coherent  narrative,  al 
though  moderately  prolix,  is  preferable  to  a  disjointed  nar- 
rative, even  if  the  latter  were  terse  as  Tacitus.  Mr.  Held'a 
representations,  I  repeat,  satisfied  me  that  an  interview  with 
my  daughter  Clementina  was  imperative.  There  was  no 
time  to  be  lost,  for  the  passage  of  the  nuptial  pair  had  al- 
ready been  taken  in  the  Ville  de  Paris,  I  started  at  once, 
sending  a  telegram  in  advance,  and  in  the  same  evening  ar- 
rived at  their  palatial  residence  in  Fifth  Avenue.  Clemen- 
tina's nature,  I  must  explain  to  the  Honorable  Court,  is  very 
different  from  that  of  her  sister, — the  reappearance,  I  sus- 
pect, of  some  lateral  strain  of  blood.  She  is  reticent,  unde- 
monstrative,— in  short,  frequently  inscrutable.  I  suspected 
that  a  direct  question  might  defeat  my  object;  therefore, 
when  I  was  alone  with  her  the  next  morning, — my  son-in- 
law,  Mr.  Spelter,  being  called  to  a  meeting  of  Erie  of  which 
he  is  one  of  the  directors, — I  said  to  her  :  '  My  child,  you 
are  perfectly  blooming !  Your  complexion  was  always  ad- 
mirable, but  now  it  seems  to  me  incomparable  ! ' ' 

"  This  is  irrelevant !  "  cried  Mr.  Spenham. 

"  By  no  means  !  It  is  the  very  corpus  delicti, — the  foot 
of  Hercules, — the  milk  (powder  would  be  more  appropriate) 
in  the  cocoa-nut !  "  Clementina  smiled  in  her  serene  way,  and 
made  no  reply.  '  How  do  you  keep  it  up  now  ? '  I  asked, 
tapping  her  cheek  ;  *  you  must  be  careful,  here  :  all  persona 
are  not  so  discreet  as  Wallis  and  Erkers.'  She  was  as- 
tounded, stupefied,  I  might  say,  but  I  saw  that  I  had  reached 
the  core  of  truth.  '  Did  you  suppose  I  was  ignorant  of  it?* 
I  said,  still  very  friendly  and  playfully.  'Then  it  was  Julia 
who  told  you  ! '  she  exclaimed.  '  And  if  she  did,*  I  an- 
swered, '  what  was  the  harm  ?  I  have  no  doubt  that  Julia 
did  the  same  thing.'  *  She  was  always  foolish,'  Oementint 


330  JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FRIEND. 

then  said  ;  '  she  envied  me  my  complexion,  and  she  watched 
me  until  she  found  out.  I  told  her  that  it  would  not  do  for 
any  except  blondes,  like  myself,  and  her  complexion  waa 
neither  one  thing  nor  the  other.  And  I  couldn't  see  that  it 
improved  much,  afterwards.' " 

Mr.  Pinkerton  saw  that  the  jurymen  were  puzzled,  and 
requested  Mr.  Blessing  to  explain  the  conversation  to 
them. 

"  It  is  my  painful  duty  to  obey ;  yet  a  father's  feelings 
may  be  pardoned  if  he  shrinks  from  presenting  the  facts  at 
once  in  their  naked — unpleasantness.  However,  since  the 
use  of  arsenic  as  a  cosmetic  is  so  general  in  our  city,  especi- 
ally among  blondes,  as  Wallis  and  Erkers  assure  me,  my 
own  family  is  not  an  isolated  case.  Julia  commenced  using 
the  drug,  so  Clementina  informed  me,  after  her  engagement 
with  Mr.  Asten,  and  only  a  short  time  before  her  marriage. 
To  what  extent  she  used  it,  after  that  event,  I  have  no 
means  of  knowing ;  but,  I  suspect,  less  frequently,  unless 
she  feared  that  the  disparity  of  age  between  her  and  her 
husband  was  becoming  more  apparent.  I  cannot  excuse  her 
duplicity  in  giving  Miss  Henderson's  name  instead  of  her 
own  at  Mr.  Linthicum's  drug  store,  since  the  result  might 
have  been  so  fearfully  fatal ;  yet  I  entreat  you  to  believe 
that  there  may  have  been  no  inimical  animus  in  the  act. 
I  attribute  her  death  entirely  to  an  over-dose  of  the  drug, 
voluntarily  taken,  but  taken  in  a  moment  of  strong  excite- 
ment." 

The  feeling  of  relief  from  suspense,  not  only  among 
Joseph's  friends,  but  throughout  the  crowded  court-room, 
was  clearly  manifested :  all  present  seemed  to  breathe  a 
lighter  and  fresher  atmosphere. 

Mr.  Blessing  wiped  his  forehead  and  his  fat  cheeks,  and 


JOSEPH    AND  HIS   FRIEND.  831 

looked  benignly  around.  "  There  are  a  hundred  little  addi 
tional  details,"  he  said,  "  which  will  substantiate  my  evi 
dence ;  but  I  have  surely  said  sufficient  for  the  ends  of  jus- 
tice. The  heavens  will  not  fall  because  I  have  been  forced 
to  carve  the  emblems  of  criminal  vanity  upon  the  sepulchre 
of  an  unfortunate  child, — but  the  judgment  of  an  earthly 
tribunal  may  well  be  satisfied.  However,  I  am  ready,"  he 
added,  turning  towards  Mr.  Spenham ;  "  apply  all  the  en- 
gines of  technical  procedure,  and  I  shall  not  wince." 

The  manner  of  the  prosecuting  attorney  was  completely 
changed.  He  answered  respectfully  and  courteously,  and  his 
brief  cross-examination  was  calculated  rather  to  confirm 
the  evidence  for  the  defence  than  to  invalidate  it. 

Mr.  Pinkerton  then  rose  and  stated  that  he  should  call 
no  other  witnesses.  The  fact  had  been  established  that 
Mrs.  Asten  had  been  in  the  habit  of  taking  arsenic  to  im- 
prove her  complexion ;  also  that  she  had  purchased  much 
more  than  enough  of  the  drug  to  cause  death,  at  the  store 
of  Mr.  Ziba  linthicum,  only  a  few  days  before  her  demise, 
find  under  circumstances  which  indicated  a  desire  to  conceal 
the  purchase.  There  were  two  ways  in  which  the  manner 
of  her  death  might  be  explained ;  either  she  had  ignorantly 
taken  an  over-dose,  or,  having  mixed  the  usual  quantity  be- 
fore descending  to  the  garden  to  overhear  the  conversation 
between  Mr.  Asten  and  Lucy  Henderson,  had  forgotten  the 
fact  in  the  great  excitement  which  followed,  and  thought- 
lessly added  as  much  more  of  the  poison.  Her  hist  words 
to  her  husband,  which  could  not  be  introduced  as  evidence, 
but  might  now  be  repeated,  showed  that  her  death  was  the 
result  of  accident,  and  not  of  design.  She  was  thus  ab- 
solved of  the  guilt  of  suicide,  even  as  her  husband  of  the 
charge  of  murder. 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

Mr.  Spenham,  somewhat  to  the  surprise  of  those  who 
were  unacquainted  with  his  time  character,  also  stated  that 
he  should  call  no  further  witness  for  the  prosecution.  The 
testimonies  of  Mr.  Augustus  Fi  /cwilliam  Case  and  Mr.  Ben- 
jamin Blessing — although  the  latter  was  unnecessarily  os- 
tentatious and  discursive — were  sufficient  to  convince  him 
that  the  prosecution  could  not  make  out  a  case.  He  had 
no  doubt  whatever  of  Mr.  Joseph  Asten's  innocence.  Lest 
the  expressions  which  he  had  been  compelled  to  use,  in  the 
performance  of  his  duty,  might  be  misunderstood,  he  wished 
to  say  that  he  had  the  highest  respect  for  the  characters  of 
Mr.  Asten  and  also  of  Miss  Lucy  Henderson.  He  believed 
the  latter  to  be  a  refined  and  virtuous  lady^  an  ornament  to 
the  community  in  which  she  resided.  His  language  to- 
wards her  had  been  professional, — by  no  means  personal. 
It  was  in  accordance  with  the  usage  of  the  most  eminent 
lights  of  the  bar ;  the  ends  of  justice  required  the  most 
searching  examination,  and  the  more  a  character  was  cri- 
minated the  more  brightly  it  would  shine  forth  to  the 
world  after  the  test  had  been  successfully  endured. 
He  was  simply  the  agent  of  the  law,  and  all  respect  of  per- 
sons was  prohibited  to  him  while  in  the  exercise  of  hia 
functions. 

The  judge  informed  the  jurymen  that  he  did  not  find  it 
necessary  to  give  them  any  instructions.  If  they  were 
already  agreed  upon  their  verdict,  even  the  formality  of 
retiring  might  be  dispensed  with. 

There  was  a  minute's  whispering  back  and  forth  among 
the  men,  and  the  foreman  then  rose  and  stated  that  they 
were  agreed. 

The  words  "  Not  Guilty !  "  spoken  loudly  and  emphati- 
cally, were  the  «ignal  for  a  stormy  burst  of  applause  from 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FEIEND. 

the  audience.  In  vain  the  court-crier,  aided  by  the  consta- 
bles, endeavored  to  preserve  order.  Joseph's  friends  gath- 
ered around  him  with  their  congratulations ;  while  Mr. 
Blessing,  feeling  that  some  recognition  of  the  popular  senti- 
ment was  required,  rose  and  bowed  repeatedly  to  the  crowd. 
Philip  lad  the  way  to  the  open  air,  and  the  others  followed, 
but  few  words  were  spoken  until  they  found  themselves  in 
the  large  parlor  of  the  hotel. 

Mr.  Blessing  had  exchanged  some  mysterious  whispers 
with  the  clerk,  on  arriving  ;  and  presently  two  negro  waiteia 
entered  the  room,  bearing  wine,  ice,  and  other  refreshments. 
When  the  glasses  had  been  filled,  Mr.  Blessing  lifted  his 
with  an  air  which  imposed  silence  on  the  company,  and  thus 
spake :  " '  Out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth 
Bpeaketh.'  There  may  be  occasions  when  silence  is  golden, 
but  to-day  we  are  content  with  the  baser  metaL  A  man  in 
whom  we  all  confide,  whom  we  all  love,  has  been  rescued 
from  the  labyrinth  of  circumstances ;  he  comes  to  us  as  a 
new  Theseus,  saved  from  the  Minotaur  of  the  Law !  Al- 
though Mr.  Held,  with  the  assistance  of  his  fair  sister,  was 
the  Ariadne  who  found  the  clew,  it  has  been  my  happy  lot 
to  assist  in  unrolling  it ;  and  now  we  all  stand  together,  like 
our  classic  models  on  the  free  soil  of  Crete,  to  chant  a  paean 
of  deliverance.  While  I  propose  the  health  and  happiness 
and  good-fortune  of  Joseph  Asten,  I  beg  him  to  believe  that 
my  words  come  ab  imo  pectore, — from  my  inmost  heart:  if 
any  veil  of  mistrust,  engendered  by  circumstances  which  I 
will  not  now  recall,  still  hangs  between  him  and  myself,  I 
entreat  him  to  rend  that  veil,  even  as  David  rent  his  gar- 
ments, and  believe  in  my  sincerity,  if  he  cannot  in  my  di* 
cretion  !  " 

Philip  was  the  only  one,  besides  Joseph,  who  understood 


834 

the  last  allusion.  He  caught  hold  of  Mr.  Blessing's  hand! 
and  exclaimed  :  "  Spoken  like  i  man  !  " 

Joseph  stepped  instantly  forward.  "  I  have  again  been 
unjust,"  he  said,  "  and  I  thank  you  for  making  me  feel  it 
You  have  done  me  an  infinite  service,  sacrificing  your  own 
feelings,  bearing  no  malice  against  me  for  my  hasty  and 
unpardonable  words,  and  showing  a  confidence  in  my  charac- 
ter which — after  what  has  passed  between  us — puts  me  to 
ahame.  I  am  both  penitent  and  grateful :  henceforth  I  shall 
know  you  and  esteem  you  !  " 

Mr.  Blessing  took  the  offered  hand,  held  it  a  moment,  and 
hhen  stammered,  while  the  tears  started  from  his  eyes : 
w  Enough  !  Bury  the  past  a  thousand  fathoms  deep  !  I  can 
»till  say :  foi  de  JSelsain  I  " 

"  One  more  toast !  "  cried  Philip.  "  Happiness  and 
worldly  fortune  to  the  man  whom  misfortunes  have  bent  but 
cannot  break, — who  has  been  often  deceived,  but  who 
never  purposely  deceived  in  turn, — whose  sentiment  of 
honor  has  been  to-day  so  nobly  manifested, — Benjamin 
Blessing ! " 

While  the  happy  company  were  pouring  oflt  but  not  ex- 
hausting their  feelings,  Lucy  Henderson  stole  forth  upon  the 
upper  balcony  of  the  hotel.  There  was  a  secret  trouble  in 
her  heart,  which  grew  from  minute  to  minute.  She  leaned 
upon  the  railing,  and  looked  down  the  dusty  street,  passing 
in  review  the  events  of  the  two  pregnant  days,  and  striving 
fco  guess  in  what  manner  they  would  affect  her  coming  life. 
She  felt  that  she  had  done  her  simple  duty  :  she  had  spoken 
no  word  which  she  was  not  ready  to  repeat ;  yet  in  her 
words  there  seemed  to  be  the  seeds  of  change. 

After  a  while  the  hostler  brought  a  light  carriage  from  the 
stable,  and  Elwood  Withers  stepped  into  the  street  below 


JOSEPH   AND    HIS   FRIEND.  335 

her.  He  was  about  to  take  the  reins,  when  he  looked  up, 
saw  her,  and  remained  standing.  She  noticed  the  intensely 
wistful  expression  of  his  face. 

"  Are  you  going,  Elwood, — and  alone  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  eagerly  ;  and  waited. 

"  Then  I  will  go  with  you, — that  is,  if  you  will  take  me." 
She  tried  to  speak  lightly  and  playfully. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  out  of  town,  passing  between 
the  tawny  fields  and  under  the  russet  woods.  A  sweet  west 
wind  fanned  them  with  nutty  and  spicy  odors,  and  made  a 
crisp,  cheerful  music  among  the  fallen  leaves. 

"  What  a  delicious  change ! "  said  Lucy,  "  after  that 
stifling,  dreadful  room." 

"Ay,  Lucy — and  think  how  Joseph  will  feel  itl  And 
how  nf-ar,  by  the  chance  of  a  hair,  we  came  of  missing  the 
truth ! " 

"  Elwood  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  while  I  was  giving  my  tes- 
timony, and  I  found  your  eyes  fixed  on  me,  were  yon  think- 
ing of  the  counsel  you  gave  me,  three  weeks  ago,  when  we 
met  at  the  tunnel  ?  " 

"  I  was  1 " 

"  I  knew  it,  and  I  obeyed.  Do  you  now  say  that  I  did 
right?" 

"  Not  for  that  reason,"  he  answered.  "  It  was  your  own 
heart  that  told  you  what  to  do.  I  did  not  mean  to  bend  or 
influence  you  in  any  way :  I  have  no  right." 

"  You  have  the  right  of  a  friend,"  she  whispered. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  sometimes  take  more  upon  myself 
than  I  ought.  But  it's  hard,  in  my  case,  to  hit  a  very  fine 
line." 

"  O,  you  are  now  unjust  to  yourself,  Elwood.  You  an 
Doth  strong  and  generous." 


836  JOSEPH   AND   H18   FRIEND. 

*  I  am  not  strong !  I  am  this  minute  spoiling  my  good 
luck.  It  was  a  luck  from  Heaven  to  me,  Lucy,  when  you 
offered  to  ride  home  with  me,  and  it  is,  now — if  I  could  only 
swallow  the  words  that  are  rising  into  my  mouth ! " 

She  whispered  again :  "  Why  should  you  swallow  them  ?  w 

"  You  are  cruel !  when  you  have  forbidden  me  to  speak, 
and  I  have  promised  to  obey  !  " 

"  After  all  you  have  heard  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  All  the  more  for  what  I  have  heard." 

She  took  his  hand,  and  cried,  in  a  trembling  voice  :  *'  I 
have  been  cruel,  in  remaining  blind  to  your  nature.  I  re- 
sisted what  would  have  been — what  will  be,  if  you  do  not 
turn  away — my  one  happiness  in  this  life  1  Do  not  speak — 
let  me  break  the  prohibition!  Elwood,  dear,  true,  noble 
heart, — Elwood,  I  love  you  1 " 

"Lucy!" 

And  she  lay  upon  his  bosom 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  337 


CHAPTER 


BEGINNING  ANOTHER   LIFE. 

IT  was  hard  for  the  company  of  rejoicing  Mends,  at  the 
hotel  in  Magnolia,  to  part  from  each  other.  Mr.  Blessing 
had  tact  enough  to  decline  Joseph's  invitation,  but  he  was 
sorely  tempted  by  Philip's,  in  which  Madeline  heartily 
joined.  Nevertheless,  he  only  wavered  for  a  moment  ;  a 
mysterious  resolution  strengthened  him,  and  taking  Philip 
to  one  side,  he  whispered:  — 

"Will  you  allow  me  to  postpone,  not  relinquish,  the 
pleasure  ?  Thanks  !  A  grave  duty  beckons,  —  a  task,  in 
short,  without  which  the  triumph  of  to-day  would  be  dra- 
matically incomplete.  I  must  speak  in  riddles,  because  this 
is  a  case  in  which  a  whisper  might  start  the  overhanging 
avalanche  ;  but  I  am  sure  you  will  trust  me.*' 

"  Of  course  I  will  !  "     Philip  cried,  offering  his  hand. 

"  Foi  de  JBelsain  I  "  was  Mr.  Blessing's  proud  answer,  aa 
he  hurried  away  to  reach  the  train  for  the  city. 

Joseph  looked  at  Philip,  as  the  horses  were  brought  from 
the  stable,  and  then  at  Rachel  Miller,  who,  wrapped  in  her 
great  crape  shawl,  was  quietly  waiting  for  him. 

"  We  must  not  separate  all  at  once,"  said  Philip,  stepping 
forward.  "  Miss  Miller,  will  you  invite  my  sister  and  my- 
aelf  to  take  tea  with  you  this  evening  ?  " 

Philip  had  become  one  of  Rachel's  heroes  ;  she  was  sure 
that  Mr.  Blessing's  testimony  and  Joseph's  triumphant  ac- 

quittal were  owing  to  his  exertions.     The  Asten  farm  could 
16 


838  JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FKIEND. 

produce  nothing  good  enough  for  his  entertainment, — that 
was  her  only  trouble. 

"  Do  tell  me  the  time  o'  day,"  she  said  to  Joseph,  as  he 
drove  out  of  town,  closely  followed  by  Philip's  light  car- 
riage. "It's  three  days  in  one  to  me,  and  a  deal  more  like 
day  after  to  morrow  morning  than  this  afternoon.  Now, 
a  telegraph  would  be  a  convenience ;  I  could  send  word  and 
have  chickens  killed  and  picked,  against  we  got  there." 

Joseph  answered  her  by  driving  as  rapidly  as  the  rough 
country  roads  permitted,  without  endangering  horse  and 
vehicle.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  think  coherently, 
impossible  to  thrust  back  the  single  overwhelming  prospect 
of  relief  and  release  which  had  burst  upon  his  life.  He 
dared  to  admit  the  fortune  which  had  come  to  him  through 
de^th,  now  that  his  own  innocence  of  any  indirect  incitement 
thereto  had  been  established.  The  future  was  again  clear 
before  him ;  and  even  the  miserable  discord  of  the  past  year 
began  to  recede  and  form  only  an  indistinct  background  to 
the  infinite  pity  of  the  death-scene.  Mr.  Blessing's  testi- 
mony enabled  him  to  look  back  and  truly  interpret  the  last 
appealing  looks,  the  last  broken  words ;  his  heart  banished 
the  remembrance  of  its  accusations,  and  retained  only — so 
long  as  it  should  beat  among  living  men — a  deep  and  tender 
commiseration.  As  for  the  danger  he  had  escaped,  the 
slander  which  had  been  heaped  upon  him,  his  thoughts 
were  above  the  level  of  life  which  they  touched.  He 
was  nearer  than  he  suspected  to  that  only  true  indepen- 
dence of  soul  which  releases  a  man  from  the  yoke  of  cir- 
cumstances. 

Rachel  Miller  humored  his  silence  as  long  as  she  thought 
proper,  and  then  suddenly  and  awkwardly  interrupted  it 
"  Yes,"  she  exclaimed ;  "  there's  a  little  of  the  old  currant 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FKIKND.  339 

wine  is  the  cellar-closet !  Town's-folks  generally  like  it,  and 
we  used  to  think  it  good  to  stay  a  body's  stomach  for  a  Lite 
meal,— as  it'll  be  apt  to  be.  But  I've  not  asked  you  how 
you  relished  the  supper,  though  Elwood,  to  be  sure,  allowed 
that  all  was  tolerable  nice.  And  I  see  the  Lord's  hand  in 
it,  as  I  hope  you  do,  Joseph ;  for  the  righteous  is  never  for- 
saken. We  can't  help  rejoice,  where  we  ought  to  be  humbly 
returning  thanks,  and  owning  our  un worthiness ;  but  Philip 
Reid  is  a  friend,  if  there  ever  was  one  ;  and  the  white  hen's 
brood,  though  they  are  new-fashioned  fowls,  are  plump 
enough  by  this  time,  I  disremember  whether  I  asked  El- 
wood  to  stop — " 

"  There  he  is  !  "  Joseph  interrupted  ;  "  turning  the  corner 
of  the  wood  before  us !  Lucy  is  with  him, — and  they  must 
boih  come !  " 

He  drove  on  rapidly,  and  soon  overtook  El  wood's  lagging 
team.  The  horse,  indeed,  had  had  his  own  way,  and  the 
sound  of  approaching  wheels  awoke  Elwood  from  a  trance 
of  incredible  happiness.  Before  answering  Joseph,  he  whis- 
pered to  Lucy : — 

"What  shall  we  say?  It'll  be  the  heaviest  favor  Tve 
ever  been  called  upon  to  do  a  friend." 

"  Do  it,  then !  "  she  said  :  "  the  day  is  too  blessed  to  1)6 
kept  for  ourselves  alone." 

How  fair  the  valloy  shone,  as  they  came  into  it  out  of  the 
long  glen  between  the  hills !  What  cheer  there  was,  even 
in  the  fading  leaves ;  what  happy  promise  in  the  mellow 
autumn  sky  !  The  gate  to  the  lane  stood  open ;  Dennis, 
with  a  glowing  face,  waited  for  the  horse.  He  wanted  to 
say  something,  but  not  knowing  how,  shook  hands  with  Jo- 
seph, and  then  pretended  to  be  concerned  with  the  harness. 
Rachol,  on  entering  the  kitchen,  found  her  neighbor,  Mra. 


34:0  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

Bishop,  embarked  on  a  full  tide  of  preparation.     Two  pluinj 
fowls,  scalded  and  plucked,  lay  upon  the  table ! 

This  was  too  much  for  Rachel  Miller.  She  had  borne 
up  bravely  through  the  trying  days,  concealing  her  anxiety 
lest  it  might  be  misinterpreted,  hiding  even  her  grateful 
emotion,  to  make  her  faith  in  Joseph's  innocence  seem  the 
stronger ;  and  now  Mrs.  Bishop's  thoughtfulness  was  the 
slight  touch  under  which  she  gave  way.  She  sat  down  and 
cried. 

Mrs.  Bishop,  with  a  stew-pan  in  one  hand,  while  she 
wiped  her  sympathetic  eyes  with  the  other,  explained  that 
her  husband  had  come  home  an  hour  before,  with  the  news ; 
and  that  she  just  guessed  help  would  be  wanted,  or  leastways 
company,  and  so  she  had  made  bold  to  begin ;  for,  though 
the  truth  had  been  made  manifest,  and  the  right  had  been 
proved,  as  anybody  might  know  it  would  be,  still  it  was  a 
trial,  and  people  needed  to  eat  more  and  better  under  trials 
than  at  any  other  time.  "  You  may  not  feel  inclined  for 
victuals ;  but  there's  the  danger  !  A  body's  body  must  be 
supported,  whether  or  no." 

Meanwhile,  Joseph  and  his  guests  sat  on  the  veranda,  in 
the  still,  mild  air.  He  drew  his  chair  near  to  Philip's,  their 
hands  closed  upon  each  other,  and  they  were  entirely  happy 
in  the  tender  and  perfect  manly  love  which  united  them. 
Madeline  sat  in  front,  with  a  nimbus  of  sunshine  around  her 
hair,  feeling  also  the  embarrassment  of  .speech  at  such  a 
moment,  yet  bravely  endeavoring  to  gossip  with  Lucy  on 
other  matters.  But  El  wood's  face,  so  bright  that  it  became 
almost  beautiful,  caught  her  eye  :  she  glanced  at  Philip,  who 
answered  with  a  smile  ;  then  at  Lucy,  whose  cheek  bloomed 
«eitb.  the  loveliest  color;  and,  rising  without  ;i  word,  she 
went  to  the  latter  and  embraced  her. 


JOSEPII    AND   HIS  FEIKNIX  841 

Then,  stretching  her  hand  to  El  wood,  she  said:  "Forgive 
me,  both  of  you,  for  showing  how  glad  I  am !  ** 

"  Philip  !  "  Joseph  cried,  as  the  truth  flashed  upon  him  ; 
"  life  is  not  always  unjust !  It  is  we  who  are  impatient.** 

They  both  arose  and  gave  hands  of  congratulation;  and 
Elwood,  though  so  deeply  moved  that  he  scarcely  trusted 
himself  to  speak,  was  so  frankly  proud  and  happy, — BO 
purely  and  honestly  man  in  such  a  sacred  moment, — that 
Lucy's  heart  swelled  with  an  equally  proud  recognition  of 
his  feeling.  Their  eyes  met,  and  no  memory  of  a  mistaken 
Past  could  ever  again  come  like  a  cloud  across  the  light  of 
their  mutual  faith. 

"  The  day  was  blessed  already,"  said  Philip ;  "  but  thia 
makes  it  perfect." 

No  one  knew  how  the  time  went  by,  or  could  afterwards 
recall  much  that  was  said.  Rachel  Miller,  with  many 
apologies,  summoned  them  to  a  sumptuous  meal ;  and  when 
the  moon  hung  chill  and  clear  above  the  creeping  mists  of 
the  valley,  they  parted. 

The  next  evening,  Joseph  went  to  Philip  at  the  Forge. 
It  was  well  that  he  should  breathe  another  atmosphere,  and 
dwell,  for  a  little  while,  within  walls  where  no  ghosts  of 
his  former  life  wandered.  Madeline,  the  most  hospitably 
observant  of  hostesses,  seemed  to  have  planned  the  arrange- 
ments solely  for  his  and  Philip's  intercourse.  The  short 
evening  of  the  countiy  was  not  half  over,  before  she 
sent  them  to  Philip's  room,  where  a  genial  -vood-fire  prat- 
tled and  nickered  on  the  hearth,  with  two  easy-chairs  be- 
fore it. 

Philip  lighted  a  pipe  and  they  sat  down.  "  Now,  Joseph,*' 
said  he,  "  I'll  answer  '  Yes  ! '  to  the  question  in  your  mind." 

"You  have  been  talking  with  Bishop,  Philip?** 


342  JOSEPH   AND  HIS   FBIEND. 

"  No ;  but  I  won't  mystify  you.     As  I  rode  up  the  valley, 

I  saw  you  two  standing  on  the  hill,  and  could  easily  guess 
the  rest.  A  large  estate  in  this  country  is  only  an  imagi- 
nary fortune.  You  are  not  so  much  of  a  farmer,  Joseph, 
that  it  will  cut  you  to  the  heart  and  make  you  dream  of 
ruin  to  part  with  a  few  fields ;  if  you  were,  I  should  say 
get  that  weakness  out  of  you  at  once  !  A  man  should  pos- 
sess his  property,  not  be  possessed  by  it." 

"  You  are  right,"  Joseph  answered  ;  "  I  have  been  fight- 
ing against  an  inherited  feeling." 

"  The  only  question  is,  will  the  sale  of  those  fifty  acres 
relieve  you  of  all  present  embarrassments  ?  " 

"  So  far,  Philip,  that  a  new  mortgage  of  about  half  the 
amount  will  cover  what  remains." 

"  Bravo  !  "  cried  Philip.  "  This  is  better  than  I  thought. 
Mr.  Hopeton  is  looking  for  sure,  steady  investments,  and 
will  furnish  whatever  you  need.  So  there  is  no  danger  of 
foreclosure." 

"  Things  seem  to  shape  themselves  almost  too  easily  now," 
Joseph  answered.  I  see  the  old,  mechanical  routine  of  my 
life  coming  back  :  it  should  be  enough  for  me,  but  it  is  not ; 
can  you  tell  me  why,  Philip  ?  " 

"  Yes  :  it  never  was  enough.  The  most  of  our  neighbors 
are  cases  of  arrested  development.  Their  intellectual  nature 
only  takes  so  many  marks,  like  a  horse's  teeth ;  there  is  a 
point  early  in  their  lives,  where  its  form  becomes  fixed. 
There  is  neither  the  external  influence,  nor  the  inward  neces- 
sity, to  drive  them  a  step  further.  They  find  the  Sphinx 
•dangerous,  and  keep  out  of  her  way.  Of  course,  as  soon  aa 
•Jiey  passively  begin  to  accept  what  is,  all  that  was  fluent  or 
plastic  in  them  soon  hardens  into  the  old  moulds.  Now,  ] 
am  not  very  wise,  but  this  appears  to  me  to  be  truth  j  that 


JOSEPH    AWD   HIS   FRIEND.  343 

life  is  a  grand  centrifugal  force,  forever  growing  from  a 
wider  circle  tow;  rds  one  that  is  still  wider.  Your  stationary 
men  may  be  necessary,  and  even  serviceable ;  but  to  me — 
and  to  you,  Joseph — there  is  neither  joy  nor  peace  except 
in  some  kind  of  growth." 

"  If  we  could  be  always  sure  of  the  direction ! "  Joseph 
sighed. 

"  That's  the  point !  "  Philip  eagerly  continued.  "  If  we 
stop  to  consider  danger  in  advance,  we  should  never  venture 
a  step.  A  movement  is  always  clear  after  it  has  been  made, 
not  often  before.  It  is  enough  to  test  one's  intention ;  un- 
less we  are  tolerably  bad,  something  guides  us,  and  adjusts 
the  consequences  of  our  acts.  Why,  we  are  like  spiders,  in 
the  midst  of  a  million  gossamer  threads,  which  we  are  all 
the  time  spinning  without  knowing  it !  Who  are  to  mea- 
sure our  lives  for  us  ?  Not  other  men  with  other  necessi- 
ties !  and  so  we  come  back  to  the  same  point  again,  where  I 
started.  Looking  back  now,  can  you  see  no  gain  in  your 
mistake  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  gain  I  can  never  lose.  I  begin  to  think  that 
haste  and  weakness  also  are  vices,  and  deserve  to  be 
punished.  It  was  a  dainty,  effeminate  soul  you  found,  Phi- 
lip,— a  moi'al  and  spiritual  Sybarite,  I  should  say  now.  I 
must  have  expected  to  lie  on  rose-leaves,  and  it  was  right 
that  I  should  find  thorns." 

"  I  think,"  said  Philip,  "  the  world  needs  a  new  code  of 
ethics.  We  must  cure  the  unfortunate  tendencies  of  some 
qualities  that  seem  good,  and  extract  the  good  from  others 
that  seem  evil.  But  it  would  need  more  than  a  Luther  for 
•roch  a  Reformation.  I  confess  I  am  puzzled,  when  I  at- 
tempt to  study  moial  causes  and  consequences  in  men's 
lives.  It  is  nothing  but  a  tangle,  when  I  take  them  colleo 


344  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

lively.  What  if  each  of  us  were,  as  I  half  suspect,  aa  indo 
pendent  as  a  planet,  yet  all  held  together  in  one  immense 
system  ?  Then  the  central  force  must  be  our  close  depend- 
ence on  God,  as  I  have  learned  to  feel  it  through  you." 

(t  Through  me  !  "  Joseph  exclaimed. 

"  Do  you  suppose  we  can  be  so  near  each  other  without 
j/iving  and  taking  ?  Let  us  not  try  to  get  upon  a  common 
ground  of  faith  or  action :  it  is  a  thousand  times  more  de- 
lightful to  discover  that  we  now  and  then  reach  the  same 
point  by  different  paths.  This  reminds  me,  Joseph,  that 
our  paths  ought  to  separate  now,  for  a  while.  Tt  is  you  who 
should  leave, — but  only  to  come  back  again,  '  in  the  fulness 
of  time.*  Heaven  knows,  I  am  merciless  to  myself  in  recom- 
mending it." 

"  You  are  right  to  try  me.  It  is  time  that  I  should 
know  something  of  the  world.  But  to  leave,  now — so 
immediately —  " 

"  It  will  make  no  difference,"  said  Philip.  "  Whether 
you  go  or  stay,  there  will  be  stories  afloat.  The  bolder  plan 
is  the  better." 

The  subject  was  renewed  the  next  morning  at  breakfast. 
Madeline  heartily  seconded  Philip's  counsel,  and  took  a 
lively  part  in  the  discussion. 

"We  were  in  Europe  as  children,"  she  said  to  Joseph, 
"and  I  have  very  clear  and  delightful  memories  of  tho 
travel." 

"  I  was  not  thinking  especially  of  Europe,"  he  answered. 
"  I  am  hardly  prepared  for  such  a  journey.  What  I  should 
wish  is,  not  to  look  idly  at  sights  and  shows,  but  to  have 
Borne  active  interest  or  employment,  which  would  bring  me 
into  contact  with  men.  Philip  knows  my  purpose." 

a  Then,"  sair  Madeline,  "  why  not  hunt  on  Philip's  trail  ? 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  846 

I  have  no  doubt  you  can  track  him  from  Texas  to  the  Pacific 
by  the  traditions  of  his  wild  pranks  and  adventures  !  How 
I  should  enjoy  getting  hold  of  a  few  chapters  of  his  history  !  '* 

"  Madeline,  you  are  a  genius  !  "  Philip  cried.  "  How 
could  I  have  forgotten  Wilder's  letter,  a  fortnight  ago,  you 
remember  ?  One  need  not  be  a  practical  geologist  to  make 
the  business  report  he  wants ;  but  Joseph  has  read  enough 
to  take  hold,  with  the  aid  of  the  books  I  can  give  him  !  If 
it  is  not  too  late  !  " 

"  I  was  not  thinking  of  that,  Philip,"  Madeline  answered. 
"  Did  you  not  say  that  the  place  was —  " 

She  hesitated.  "  Dangerous  ?  "  said  Philip.  «  Yes.  But 
if  Joseph  goes  there,  he  will  come  back  to  us  again." 

"  O,  don't  invoke  misfortune  in  that  way  I  " 

"  Neither  do  I,"  he  gravely  replied ;  "  but  I  can  see  the 
shadow  of  Joseph's  life  thrown  ahead,  as  I  can  see  my  own." 

"  I  think  I  should  like  to  be  sent  into  danger,"  said 
Joseph. 

Philip  smiled :  "  As  if  you  had  not  just  escaped  the 
greatest !  Well,  —  it  was  Madeline's  guess  which  most 
helped  to  avert  it,  and  now  it  is  her  chance  word  which  will 
probably  send  you  into  another  one." 

Joseph  looked  up  in  astonishment.  "  I  don't  understand 
you,  Philip,"  he  said. 

"  O  Philip  !  "  cried  Madeline. 

"  I  had  really  forgott<  n,"  he  answered,  "  that  you  knew 
nothing  of  the  course  by  which  we  reached  your  defence. 
Madeline  first  suggested  to  me  that  the  poison  was  some- 
times used  as  a  cosmetic,  and  on  this  hint,  with  Mr.  Bless- 
ing's help,  the  truth  was  discovered." 

And  I  did  not  know  how  much  I  owe  to  you  I"  Joseph 

exclaimed,  turning  towards  her. 
16* 


346  JOSEPH    AND    HIS   FRIEND. 

u  Do  not  thank  me,"  she  said,  "  for  Philip  thinks  the  foi 
tunate  guess  may  be  balanced  by  an  evil  one." 

"  No,  no  !  "  Joseph  pi-otested,  noticing  the  slight  tremblfl 
in  her  voice  ;  "  I  will  take  it  as  a  good  omen.  Now  I  know 
that  danger  will  pass  me  by,  if  it  comes  !  " 

"  If  your  experience  should  be  anything  like  mine,"  said 
Philip,  "you  will  only  recognize  the  danger  when  you  can 
turn  and  look  back  at  it.  But,  come !  Madeline  has  less 
superstition  in  her  nature  than  she  would  have  us  believe. 
Wilder's  offer  is  just  the  thing ;  I  have  his  letter  on  file, 
and  will  write  to  him  at  once.  Let  us  go  down  to  my 
office  at  the  Forge  !  " 

The  letter  was  from  a  capitalist  who  had  an  interest  ii, 
several  mines  in  Arizona  and  Nevada.  He  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  returns,  and  wished  to  send  a  private,  confidential 
agent  to  those  regions,  to  examine  the  prospects  and  opera- 
tions of  the  companies  and  report  thereupon.  With  the  aid 
of  a  map  the  probable  course  of  travel  was  marked  out,  and 
Joseph  rejoiced  at  the  broad  field  of  activity  and  adventure 
which  it  opened  to  him. 

He  stayed  with  Philip  a  day  or  two  longer,  and  every 
evening  the  fire  made  a  cheery  accompaniment  to  the  deep- 
est and  sweetest  confidences  of  their  hearts,  now  pausing  as 
if  to  listen,  now  rapidly  murmuring  some  happy,  inarticulate 
secret  of  its  own.  As  each  gradually  acquired  full  possession 
of  the  other's  past,  the  circles  of  their  lives,  as  Philip  said, 
were  reciprocally  widened ;  but  as  the  horizon  spread,  it 
seemed  to  meet  a  clearer  sky.  Their  eyes  were  no  longer 
lixed  on  the  single  point  of  time  wherein  they  breathed. 
Whatever  pain  remained,  melted  before  them  and  behind 
them  into  atmospheres  of  resignation  and  wiser  patience. 
One  gave  his  couragn  and  experience,  the  other  his  pure 


JOSEPH    A.NU    fllS   FKIEND.  347 

instin jt,  his  faith  and  aspiration;  and  a  new  harmony  came 
from  the  closer  interfusion  of  sweetness  and  streng+L. 

When  Joseph  returned  home,  he  at  once  set  about  putting 
his  affairs  in  order,  and  making  arrangements  for  an  absence 
of  a  year  or  more.  It  was  necessary  that  he  should  come  in 
contact  with  most  of  his  neighbors,  and  he  was  made  aware 
of  their  good  will  without  knowing  that  it  was,  in  many 
cases,  a  reaction  from  suspicion  and  slanderous  gos-rip.  Mr. 
Chaffinch  had  even  preached  a  sermon,  in  which  no  name 
was  mentioned,  but  everybody  understood  the  allusion.  Thia 
was  considered  to  be  perfectly  right,  so  long  as  the  prejudices 
of  the  people  were  with  him,  and  Julia  was  supposed  to  be 
the  pious  and  innocent  victim  of  a  crime.  When,  however, 
the  truth  had  been  established,  many  who  had  kept  silent 
now  denounced  the  sermon,  and  another  on  the  deceitfulness 
of  appearances,  which  Mr.  Chaffinch  gave  on  the  following 
Sabbath,  was  accepted  as  the  nearest  approach  to  an  apology 
consistent  with  his  clerical  dignity. 

Joseph  was  really  ignorant  of  these  proceedings,  and  the 
quiet,  self-possessed,  neighborly  way  in  which  he  met  the 
people  gave  them  a  new  impression  of  his  character.  More- 
over, he  spoke  of  his  circumstances,  when  it  was  necessary, 
with  a  frankness  Tinusual  among  them ;  and  the  natural  re- 
sult was  that  his  credit  was  soon  established  on  as  sound  a 
basis  as  ever.  When,  through  Philip's  persistence,  the  mis- 
sion to  the  Pacific  coast  was  secured,  but  little  further  time 
was  needed  to  complete  the  arrangements.  By  the  sacrifice 
of  one-fourth  of  his  land,  the  rest  was  saved,  and  intrusted 
to  good  hands  during  his  absence.  Philip,  in  the  mean  time, 
had  fortified  him  with  as  many  hints  and  instructions  as 
possible,  and  he  was  ready,  with  a  light  heart  and  a  full  head, 
to  set  out  upon  the  long  and  uncertain  journey. 


848  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRITOTO. 


CHAPTER  XXXTT. 

LETTERS. 
I.  JOSEPH  TO  PHILIP. 

CAMP ,  ARIZONA,  October  It.  1888. 

SINCE  I  wrote  to  you  from  Prescott,  dear  Philip,  three 
months  have  passed,  and  I  have  had  no  certain  means  of 
sending  you  another  letter.  There  was,  first,  Mr.  Wilder'a 

interest  at ,  the  place  hard  to  reach,  and  the  business 

difficult  to  investigate.  It  was  not  so  easy,  even  with  the 
help  of  your  notes,  to  connect  the  geology  of  books  with  the 
geology  of  nature;  these  rough  hills  don't  at  all  resemble 
the  clean  drawings  of  strata.  However,  I  have  learned  all 
the  more  rapidly  by  not  assuming  to  know  much,  and  the  re- 
port I  sent  contained  a  great  deal  more  than  my  own  per- 
sonal experience.  The  duty  was  irksome  enough,  at  times; 
I  have  been  tempted  by  the  evil  spirits  of  ignorance,  indo- 
lence, and  weariness,  and  I  verily  believe  that  the  fear  of 
failing  to  make  good  your  guaranty  for  my  capacity  was  the 
spur  which  kept  me  from  giving  way.  Now,  habit  is  begin- 
ning to  help  me,  and,  moreover,  my  own  ambition  has  some- 
thing to  stand  on. 

I  had  scarcely  finished  and  forwarded  my  first  superficial 
account  of  the  business  as  it  appeared  to  me,  when  a  chance 
suddenly  offered  of  joining  a  party  of  prospecters,  some 
of  whom  I  had  already  met :  as  you  know,  we  get  acquainted 
in  little  time,  and  with  no  introductions  in  these  parts. 
They  were  bound,  first,  for  some  little-known  regions  in 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  349 

Eastern  Nevada,  and  then,  passing  a  point  which  Mr 
Wilder  wished  me  to  visit  (and  which  T  could  not  have 
reached  so  directly  from  any  other  quarter),  they  meant  to 
finish  the  journey  at  Austin.  It  was  an  opportunity  I 
could  not  let  go,  though  I  will  admit  to  you,  Philip,  that  I 
also  hoped  to  overtake  the  adventures,  which  had  seemed  to 
recede  from  me,  rainbow-fashion,  as  I  went  on. 

Some  of  the  party  were  old  Rocky  Mountain  men,  as  wary 
as  courageous ;  yet  we  passed  through  one  or  two  straits 
which  tested  all  their  endurance  and  invention.  I  won't  say 
how  I  stood  the  test ;  perhaps  I  ought  to  be  satisfied  that 
I  came  through  to  the  end,  and  am  now  alive  and  cheerful. 
To  be  sure,  there  are  many  other  ways  of  measuring  our 
strength.  This  experience  wouldn't  help  me  the  least  in  a 
discussion  of  principles,  or  in  organizing  any  of  the  machi- 
nery of  society.  It  is  rather  like  going  back  to  the  first 
ages  of  mankind,  and  being  tried  in  the  struggle  for  exist- 
ence. To  me,  that  is  a  great  deal.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been 
taken  out  of  civilization  and  set  back  towards  the  beginning, 
in  order  to  work  my  way  up  again. 

But  what  is  the  practical  result  of  this  journey  ?  you  will 
ask.  I  can  hardly  tell,  at  present :  if  I  were  to  state  that  I 
have  been  acting  on  your  system  of  life  rather  than  my  own, 
— that  is,  making  ventures  without  any  certainty  of  the  con- 
sequences,— I  think  you  would  shake  your  head.  Neverthe- 
less, in  these  ten  months  of  absence  I  have  come  out  of  my 
old  skin  and  am  a  livelier  snake  than  you  ever  knew  me  to 
be.  No,  I  am  wrong;  it  is  hardly  a  venture  after  all,  and 
my  self-glorification  is  out  of  place.  I  have  the  prospect  of 
winning  a  great  deal  where  a  very  little  has  been  staked,  and 
the  most  timid  man  in  the  world  might  readily  go  that  far. 
A.gain  you  will  shake  your  head ;  you  remember  "  The 


350  JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

Amaranth."  How  I  should  like  to  hear  what  has  become 
of  that  fearful  and  wonderful  speculation  ! 

Pray  give  me  news  of  Mr.  Blessing.  All  those  matters 
seem  to  lie  so  far  behind  me,  that  they  look  differently  to 
my  pyes.  Somehow,  I  can't  keep  the  old  impressions;  I 
even  begin  to  forget  them.  You  said,  Philip,  that  he  was 
not  intentionally  dishonest,  and  something  tells  me  you  are 
right.  We  learn  men's  characters  rapidly  in  this  rough 
school,  because  we  cannot  get  away  from  the  close,  rough, 
naked  contact.  What  surprises  me  is  that  the  knowledge  is 
not  only  good  for  present  and  future  use,  but  that  I  can  take 
it  with  me  into  my  past  life.  One  weakness  is  left,  and  you 
will  understand  it.  I  blush  to  myself, — I  am  ashamed  of 
my  early  innocence  and  ignorance.  This  is  wrong  j  yet, 
Philip,  I  seem  to  have  been  so  unmanly, — at  least  so  unmas- 
culine  !  I  looked  for  love,  and  fidelity,  and  all  the  virtues, 
on  the  surface  of  life ;  believed  that  a  gentle  tongue  was  the 
sign  of  a  tender  heart ;  felt  a  wound  when  some  strong  and 
positive,  yet  differently  moulded  being  approached  me ! 
Now,  here  are  fellows  prickly  as  a  cactus,  with  something  at 
the  core  as  true  and  tender  as  you  will  find  in  a  woman's 
heart.  They  would  stake  their  lives  for  me  sooner  than 
some  persons  (whom  we  know)  would  lend  me  a  hundred 
dollars,  without  security !  Even  your  speculator,  whom  I 
have  met  in  every  form,  is  by  no  means  the  purely  merce- 
nary and  dangerous  man  I  had  supposed. 

In  short,  Philip,  I  am  on  very  good  terms  with  human 
nature ;  the  other  nature  does  not  suit  me  so  well.  It  is  a 
grand  thing  to  look  down  into  the  canon  of  the  Colorado,  or 
to  see  a  range  of  perfectly  clear  and  shining  snow-peaks 
across  the  dry  sage-plains ;  but  oh,  for  one  acre  of  our  green 
meadows !  I  dreamed  of  them,  and  the  clover-fields,  and 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  361 

the  woods  and  running  streams,  through  the  terrific  heat  o\ 
the  Nevada  deserts,  until  the  tears  came.  It  is  nearly  a 
year  since  I  left  home :  I  should  think  it  fifty  years ! 

With  this  mail  goes  another  report  to  Mr.  Wilder.  In 
threb  or  four  months  my  task  will  be  at  an  end,  and  I  shall 
then  be  free  to  return.  Will  you  welcome  the  brown-faced, 
full  bearded  man,  broad  in  cheeks  and  shoulders,  as  you 
would  the — but  how  did  I  use  to  look,  Philip  ?  It  was  a 
younger  brother  you  knew ;  but  he  has  bequeathed  all  of  his 
love,  and  more,  to  the  older. 

II.    PHILIP  TO  JOSEPH. 

COVENTRY  FOBOK,  Chrtetnuw  Day. 

When  Madeline  hung  a  wreath  of  holly  around  your 
photograph  this  morning,  I  said  to  it  as  I  say  now :  "  A 
merry  Christmas,  Joseph,  wherever  you  are!"  It  is  a 
calm  sunny  day,  and  my  view,  as  you  know,  reaches  much 
further  through  the  leafless  trees ;  but  only  the  meadow  on 
the  right  is  green.  You,  on  the  contrary,  are  enjoying 
something  as  near  to  Paradise  in  color,  and  atmosphere, 
and  temperature  (if  you  are,  as  I  guess,  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia), as  you  will  ever  be  likely  to  see. 

Yes,  I  will  welcome  the  new  man,  although  I  shall  see 
more  of  the  old  one  in  him  than  you  perhaps  think, — nor 
would  I  have  it  otherwise.  We  don't  change  the  bases  of 
our  lives,  after  all:  the  forces  are  differently  combined, 
otherwise  developed,  but  they  hang,  I  fancy,  to  the  same 
roots.  Nay,  I'll  leave  preaching  until  I  Lave  you  again  at 
the  old  fireside.  You  want  news  from  home,  and  no  miser- 
able little  particular  is  unimportant.  I've  been  there,  and 
know  what  kind  of  letters  nxe  welcome. 


352  JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND. 

The  neighborhood  (I  like  to  hover  around  a  while,  before 
alighting)  is  still  a  land  where  all  things  always  seem  the 
same.  The  trains  run  up  and  down  our  valley,  carrying  a 
little  of  the  world  boxed  up  in  shabby  cars,  but  leaving  no 
mark  behind.  In  another  year  the  people  will  begin  to 
visit  the  city  more  frequently;  in  still  another,  the  citj 
people  will  find  their  way  to  us ;  in  five  years,  population 
will  increase  and  property  will  rise  in  value.  This  is  my 
estimate,  based  on  a  plentiful  experience. 

Last  week,  Madeline  and  I  attended  the  wedding  of 
Elwood  Withers.  It  was  at  the  Hopeton's,  and  had  been 
postponed  a  week  or  two,  on  account  of  the  birth  of  a  son 
to  our  good  old  business-friend.  There  are  two  events  for 
you  !  Elwood,  who  has  developed,  as  I  knew  he  would, 
into  an  excellent  director  of  men  and  material  undertakings, 
has  an  important  contract  on  the  new  road  to  the  coal 
regions.  He  showed  me  the  plans  and  figures  the  other 
day,  and  I  see  the  beginning  of  wealth  in  them.  Lucy, 
who  is  a  born  lady,  will  save  him  socially  and  intellectually. 
I  have  never  seen  a  more  justifiable  marriage.  He  was 
pale  and  happy,  she  sweetly  serene  and  confident ;  and  the 
few  words  he  said  at  the  breakfast,  in  answer  to  the  health 
which  Hopeton  gave  in  his  choice  Vin  d'AT,  made  the  un- 
married ladies  envy  the  bride.  Really  and  sincerely,  I 
came  away  from  the  house  more  of  a  Christian  than  I  went. 

You  know  all,  dearest  friend :  was  it  not  a  test  of  my 
heart  to  see  that  she  was  intimately,  fondly  happy  ?  It  was 
hardly  any  more  the  face  I  once  knew.  I  felt  the  change 
in  the  touch  of  her  hand.  I  heard  it  in  the  first  word  she 
spoke.  I  did  not  dare  to  look  into  my  heart  to  see  if  some- 
thing there  were  really  dead,  for  the  look  would  have  called 
the  dead  to  life.  1  made  one  heroic  effort,  heaved  a  stone 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  853 

over  the  place,  and  sealed  it  down  forever.  Then  I  felt 
your  arm  on  my  shoulder,  your  hand  on  my  breast.  I  wax 
strong  and  joyous ;  Lucy,  I  imagined,  looked  at  me  from 
time  to  time,  but  with  a  bright  face,  as  if  she  divined  what 
I  had  done.  Cau  she  have  ever  suspected  the  truth  ? 

Time  is  a  specific  administered  to  us  for  all  spiritual 
shocks;  but  change  of  habit  is  better.  Why  may  I  not 
change  in  quiet  as  you  in  action  ?  It  seems  to  me,  some- 
times, as  I  sit  alone  before  the  fire,  •with  the  pipe-stem 
between  my  teeth,  that  each  of  us  is  going  backward 
through  the  other's  experience.  You  will  thus  prove  my 
results  as  I  prove  yours.  Then,  parted  as  we  are,  I  see 
our  souls  lie  open  to  each  other  in  equal  light  and  warmth, 
and  feel  that  the  way  to  God  lies  through  the  love  of 
man. 

Two  years  ago,  how  all  our  lives  were  tangled!  Now, 
with  so  little  agency  of  our  own,  how  they  are  flowing  into 
smoothness  and  grace !  Tours  and  mine  are  not  yet  com- 
plete, but  they  are  no  longer  distorted.  One  disturbing,  yet 
most  pitiable,  nature  has  been  removed  •  Elwood,  Lucy,  the 
Hopetons,  are  happy;  you  and  I  are  healed  of  our  impa- 
tience. Yes,  there  is  something  outside  of  our  own  wills  that 
works  for  or  against  us,  as  we  may  decide.  If  I  once  forgot 
this,  it  is  all  the  clearer  now. 

1  have  forgotten  one  other, — Mr.  Blessing.  The  other  day 
I  visited  him  in  the  city.  I  found  him  five  blocks  nearer 
the  fashionable  quarter,  in  a  larger  house.  He  was  elegantly 
dressed,  and  wore  a  diamond  on  his  bosom.  He  came  to 
meet  me  with  an  open  letter  in  his  hand. 

"  From  Mrs.  Spelter,  my  daughter,"  he  said,  waving  it 
with  a  grand  air, — "  an  account  of  her  presentation  to  the 
Emperor  Napoleon.  The  dress  was — let  me  see — Hue  moiri 


354  JOSEPH    AWU   HIS   FRIEND. 

and  Cbantilly  lace ;  Eugenie  was  quite  struck  with  her  figure 
and  complexion," 

"  The  world  seems  to  treat  you  well,"  I  suggested. 

"  Another  turn  of  the  wheel.  However,  it  showed  me 
what  I  am  capable  of  achieving,  when  a  strong  spur  is  applied. 
In  this  case  the  spur  was,  as  von  probably  guess,  Mr.  Held, — 
honor.  Sir,  I  prevented  a  cataclysm  !  You  of  course  know 
the  present  quotations  of  the  Amaranth  stock,  but  you  can 
hardly  be  aware  of  my  agency  in  the  matter.  When  I  went  to 
the  Oil  Region  with  the  available  remnant  of  funds,  Kanuck 
had  fled.  Although  the  merest  tyro  in  geology,  I  selected  a 
spot  back  of  the  river-bluffs,  in  a  hollow  of  the  undulating 
table-land,  sunk  a  shaft,  and — succeeded !  It  was  what  some- 
body calls  an  inspired  guess.  I  telegraphed  instantly  to  a 
friend,  and  succeeded  in  purchasing  a  moderate  portion  of 
the  stock — not  so  much  as  I  desired — before  its  value  was 
known.  As  for  the  result,  si  monwmentwm  quceris,  circum- 
spice  I " 

I  wish  I  could  give  you  an  idea  of  the  air  with  which  he 
said  this,  standing  before  me  with  his  feet  in  position,  and 
his  arms  thrown  out  in  the  attitude  of  Ajax  defying  the  light- 
ning. 

I  ventured  to  inquire  after  your  interest.  "The  shares 
are  here,  sir,  and  safe,"  he  said,  "  worth  not  a  cent  less  than 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars." 

I  urged  him  to  sell  them  and  deposit  the  money  to  your 
credit,  but  this  he  refused  to  do  without  your  authority. 
There  was  no  possibility  of  depreciation,  he  said :  very 
well,  if  so,  this  is  your  time  to  selL  Now,  as  I  write,  it 
occurs  to  me  that  the  telegraph  may  reach  you.  I  close  this, 
therefore,  at  once,  and  post  over  to  Ahe  office  at  Oakland. 

Madeb'ne  says :  "  A  merry  Christmas  from  me  1 "     It  i* 


JOSETH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  855 

6xed  in  her  head  that  you  are  still  exposed  to  some  mys- 
terious danger.  Come  back,  shame  her  superstition,  and 
make  happy  your 

PHILIP. 

m.  JOSEPH  TO  PHILIP. 

BAH  FaATOiaoo,  June  8,  188ft. 

Philip,  Philip,  I  have  found  jour  valley  I 

After  my  trip  to  Oregon,  in  March,  I  went  southward, 
along  the  western  base  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  intending  at 
first  to  cross  the  range ;  but  falling  in  with  an  old  friend  of 
yours,  a  man  of  the  mountains  and  the  sea,  of  books  and 
men,  I  kept  company  with  him,  on  and  on,  until  the  great 
wedges  of  snow  lay  behind  us,  and  only  a  long,  low,  winding 
pass  divided  us  from  the  sands  of  the  Colorado  Desert. 
From  the  mouth  of  this  pass  I  looked  on  a  hundred  miles  of 
mountains  ;  there  were  lakes  glimmering  below  ;  there  were 
groves  of  ilex  on  the  hillsides,  an  orchard  of  oranges,  olives, 
and  vines  in  the  hollow,  millions  of  flowers  hiding  the  earth, 
pure  winds,  fresh  waters,  and  remoteness  from  all  conven- 
tional society.  I  have  never  seen  a  landscape  so  broad, 
so  bright,  so  beautiful  1 

Yes,  but  we  will  only  go  there  on  one  of  these  idle  epicu- 
rean journeys  of  which  we  dream,  and  then  to  enjoy  the  wit 
and  wisdom  of  our  generous  friend,  not  to  seek  a  refuge  from 
the  perversions  of  the  world  !  For  I  have  learned  another 
thing,  Philip  :  the  freedom  we  craved  is  not  a  thing  to  be 
found  in  this  or  that  olace.  Unless  we  bring  it  with  us,  we 
shall  not  find  it. 

The  news  of  the  decline  of  the  Amaranth  stock,  in  your 
last,  does  not  surprise  me.  How  fortunate  that  my  tele- 
graphic order  arrived  in  season  I  It  was  in  Mr.  Blessing*! 


356  JOSEPH   AND  HIS  FRIEND. 

nature  to  hold  on ;  but  lie  will  surely  have  something  left 
I  mean  to  invest  half  of  the  sum  in  his  wife's  name,  in  anj 
case;  for  the  "prospecting"  of  which  I  wroto  you,  last  fall 
was  a  piece  of  more  than  ordinary  luck.  You  must  have 
heard  of  White  Pine,  by  this  time.  We  were  the  discover- 
ers, and  reaped  a  portion  of  the  first  harvest,  which  is  never 
equal  to  the  second ;  but  this  way  of  getting  wealth  is  so 
incredible  to  me,  even  after  I  have  it,  that  I  almost  fear  the 
gold  will  turn  into  leaves  or  pebbles,  as  in  the  fairy  tales. 
I  shall  not  tell  you  what  my  share  is:  let  me  keep  one 
secret, — nay,  two, — to  carry  home  ! 

More  incredible  than  anything  else  is  now  the  circum- 
stance that  we  are  within  a  week  of  each  other.  This  let- 
ter, I  hope,  will  only  precede  me  by  a  fortnight.  I  have  one 
or  two  last  arrangements  to  make,  and  then  the  locomotive 
will  cross  the  continent  too  slowly  for  nay  eager  haste.  Why 
should  I  deny  it  ?  I  am  homesick,  body  and  soul.  Verily, 
if  I  were  to  meet  Mr.  Chaffinch  in  Montgomery  Street,  I 
should  fling  myself  upon  his  neck,  before  coming  to  my 
sober  senses.  Even  he  is  no  longer  an  antipathy :  I  was 
absurd  to  make  one  of  him,  I  have  but  one  left;  and 
Eugenie's  admiration  of  her  figure  and  complexion  does  not 
soften  it  in  the  least. 

How  happy  Madeline's  letter  made  me  !  After  I  wrote 
to  her,  I  would  have  recalled  mine,  at  any  price ;  for  I  had 
obeyed  an  impulse,  and  I  feared  foolishly.  What  you  said 
of  her  "  superstition "  might  have  been  just,  I  thought. 
But  I  believe  that  a  true-hearted  woman  always  values 
impulses,  because  she  is  never  at  a  loss  to  understand  them. 
So  now  I  obey  another,  in  sending  the  enclosed.  Do  yon 
know  that  her  face  is  as  clear  in  my  memory  as  yours?  and  aa 
—but  why  should  I  write,  when  I  shall  so  soon  be  with  you  ? 


JOCTBPH    AND   HIS   FRTKNTX  3fi7 


CHAPTER  XXYTTT, 

ALL   ARE   HAPFY. 

THREE  weeks  after  the  date  of  Joseph's  last  letter  Philip 
met  him  at  the  railroad  station  in  the  city.  Brown,  bearded, 
fresh,  and  full  of  joyous  life  after  his  seven  days'  journey 
Across  the  continent,  he  sprang  down  from  the  platform  to  be 
caught  in  his  friend's  arms. 

The  next  morning  they  went  together  to  Mr.  Blessing'a 
residence.  That  gentleman  still  wore  a  crimson  velvet 
dressing-gown,  and  the  odor  of  the  cigar,  which  he  puffed  in 
a  rear  room,  called  the  library  (the  books  were  mostly  Pat- 
ent Office  and  Agricultural  Reports,  with  Faublas  and  the 
Decamerone),  breathed  plainly  of  the  Vuelte  Abajo. 

"  My  dear  boy  !  "  he  cried,  jumping  up  and  extending  hia 
arms,  "  Asten  of  Asten  Hall !  After  all  your  moving  acci- 
dents by  flood  and  field,  back  again !  This  is — is — what 
shall  I  say  ?  compensation  for  many  a  blow  of  fate  I  And 
my  brave  Knight  with  the  Iron  Hand,  sit  down,  though  it 
be  in  Carthage,  and  let  me  refresh  my  eyes  with  your 
faces ! " 

"  Not  Carthage  yet,  I  hope,"  said  Joseph. 

"  Xot  quite,  if  I  adhere  strictly  to  facts,"  Mr.  Blessing 
replied ;  "  although  it  threatens  to  be  my  Third  Punic  War. 

There  is  even  a  slight  upward  tendency  in  the  Amaranth 
shares,  and  if  the  company  were  in  my  hands,  we  should  soon 
float  upon  the  topmost  wave.  But  what  can  I  do?  The  Hon- 
orable Whaley  and  the  Reverend  Dr.  Lellifant  were  retained 


858  JOSEPH  Airo  HIS  FRIEND. 

on  account  of  their  names ;  Whaley  made  president,  and  I 
— being  absent  at  the  time  developing  the  enterprise,  not 
only  pars  magnet  but  totus  leres  atque  rotundus,  ha !  ha ! — I 
was  put  off  with  a  director's  place.  Now  I  must  stand  by, 
and  see  the  work  of  my  hands  overthrown.  But  'tis  ever 
thus !  " 

He  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  Philip,  most  heroically  repress- 
ing a  tendency  to  shriek  with  laughter,  drew  him  on  to  state 
the  particulars,  and  soon  discovered,  as  he  had  already  sus- 
pected, that  Mr.  Blessing's  sanguine  temperament  was  the 
real  difficulty ;  it  was  still  possible  for  him  to  withdraw,  and 
secure  a  moderate  success. 

When  this  had  been  made  clear,  Joseph  interposed. 

"  Mr.  Blessing,"-  said  he,  "  I  cannot  forget  how  recklessly, 
in  my  disappointment,  I  charged  you  with  dishonesty.  I 
know  also  that  you  have  not  forgotten  it.  Will  you  give 
me  an  opportunity  of  atoning  for  my  injustice? — not  that  you 
require  it,  but  that  I  may,  henceforth,  have  less  cause  for 
self-reproach." 

"  Your  words  are  enough  !  "  Mr.  Blessing  exclaimed.  "  I 
excused  you  long  ago.  You,  in  your  pastoral  seclu- 
sion— " 

"  But  I  have  not  been  secluded  for  eighteen  months  past," 
said  Joseph,  smiling.  "  It  is  the  better  knowledge  of  men 
which  has  opened  my  eyes.  Besides,  you  have  no  right  to 
refuse  me ;  it  is  Mrs.  Blessing  whom  I  shall  have  to  con- 
sult." 

He  laid  the  papers  on  the  table,  explaining  that  half  the 
amount  realized  from  his  shares  of  the  Amaranth  had  been 
invested,  on  trust,  for  the  benefit  of  Mrs.  Eliza  Blow- 
ing. 

"Yoi  have   conquered — vincistif"  cried  Mr.   Blessing, 


JOSEPH    AND   HIS   FRIEND.  359 

ahedding  tears.     "What  can  I  do?     Generosity  ia  so  rare 
a  virtue  in  the  world,  that  it  would  be  a  crime  to  suppress 

it!" 

Philip  took  advantage  of  the  milder  mood,  and  plied  his 
arguments  so  skilfully  that  at  last  the  exuberant  pride  of 
the  De  Belsain  blood  gave  way. 

"  What  shall  I  do,  without  an  object,— a  hope,  a  faith  in 
possibilities  ?  "  Mr.  Blessing  cried.  "  The  amount  you  have 
estimated,  witu  Joseph's  princely  provision,  is  a  competence 
for  my  old  days  ;  but  how  shall  I  fill  out  those  days  ?  Tho 
sword  that  is  never  drawn  from  the  scabbard  rusts." 

"But,"  said  Philip,  gravely,  "you  forget  the  field  for 
which  you  were  destined  by  nature.  These  operations  in 
stocks  require  only  a  low  order  of  intellect ;  you  were  meant 
to  lead  and  control  multitudes  of  men.  With  your  fluency 
of  speech,  your  happy  faculty  of  illustration,  your  power  of 
presenting  facts  and  probabilities,  you  should  confine  your- 
self exclusively  to  the  higher  arena  of  politics.  Begin  as  an 
Alderman ;  then,  a  Member  of  the  Assembly ;  then,  the 
State  Senate ;  then — " 

"  Member  of  Congress !  "  cried  Mr.  Blessing,  rising,  with 
flushed  face  and  flashing  eyes.  "  You  are  right !  I  have 
allowed  the  necessity  of  the  moment  to  pull  me  down  from 
my  proper  destiny !  You  are  doubly  right !  My  creature 
comforts  once  secured,  I  can  give  my  time,  my  abilities,  my 
power  of  swaying  the  minds  of  men, — come,  let  us  withdraw, 
realize,  consolidate,  invest,  at  once  !  " 

They  took  him  at  his  word,  and  before  night  a  future,  free 
from  want,  was  secured  to  him.  While  Philip  and  Joseph 
were  on  their  way  to  the  country  by  a  late  train,  Mr.  Bless- 
ing was  making  a  speech  of  an  hour  and  a  half  at  one  of  the 
primary  political  meetings. 


360  JOSEPH   AND   HI8  FRIEND. 

There  was  welcome  through  the  valley  when  Joseph's  ar 
rival  was  known.  For  two  or  three  days  the  neighbors 
locked  to  the  farm  to  see  the  man  whose  adventures,  in  a 
very  marvellous  form,  had  been  circulating  among  them  for 
a  year  past.  Even  Mr.  Chaffinch  called,  and  was  so  concili- 
ated by  his  friendly  reception,  that  he,  thenceforth,  placed 
Joseph  in  the  ranks  of  those  "  impracticable "  men,  who 
might  be  nearer  the  truth  than  they  seemed  :  it  was  not  for 
us  to  judge. 

Every  evening,  however,  Joseph  took  his  saddle-horse  and 
rode  up  the  valley  to  Philip's  Forge.  It  was  not  only  the 
inexpressible  charm  of  the  verdure  to  which  he  had  so  long 
been  a  stranger, — not  only  the  richness  of  the  sunset  on  the 
hills,  the  exquisite  fragrance  of  the  meadow-grasses  in  the 
cool  air, — nay,  not  entirely  the  dear  companionship  of  Philip 
which  drew  him  thither.  A  sentiment  so  deep  and  powerful 
that  it  was  yet  unrecognized, — a  hope  so  faint  that  it  had 
not  yet  taken  form, — was  already  in  his  heart.  Philip  saw, 
and  was  silent. 

But,  one  night,  when  the  moon  hung  over  the  landscape, 
edging  with  sparkling  silver  the  summits  of  the  trees  below 
them,  when  the  air  was  still  and  sweet  and  warm,  and  filled 
with  the  diffused  murmurs  of  the  stream,  and  Joseph  and 
Madeline  stood  side  by  side,  on  the  curving  shoulder  of  the 
knoll,  Philip,  watching  them  from  the  open  window,  said  to 
himself:  "  They  are  swiftly  coming  to  the  knowledge  of 
each  other ;  will  it  take  Joseph  further  from  my  heart,  or 
bring  him  nearer?  It  ought  to  fill  me  with  perfect  joy,  yet 
there  is  a  little  sting  of  pain  somewhere.  My  life  had  set 
tied  down  so  peacefully  into  what  seemed  a  permanent  form ; 
with  Madeline  to  make  a  home  and  brighten  it  for  me,  and 
Joseph  to  give  me  the  precious  intimacy  of  a  man's  lore,  so 


JOSEPH   AND   HIS   FRIEND.  861 

different  from  woman's,  yet  so  pure  and  perfect !  They  have 
destroyed  my  life,  although  they  do  not  guess  it.  Well,  T 
must  be  vicariously  happy,  warmed  in  my  lonely  sphere  by 
the  far  radiation  of  their  nuptial  bliss,  seeing  a  faint  re- 
flection of  some  parts  of  myself  in  their  children,  nay, 
claiming  and  making  them  mine  as  well,  if  it  is  meant  that 
my  own  blood  should  not  beat  in  other  hearts.  But  will 
this  be  sufficient  ?  No !  either  sex  is  incomplete  alone, 
and  a  man's  full  life  shall  be  mine  !  Ah,  you  unconscioup 
lovers,  you  simple-souled  children,  that  know  not  what  you 
are  doing,  1  shall  be  even  with  you  in  the  end  !  The  world 
is  a  failure,  God's  wonderful  system  is  imperfect,  if  there 
is  not  now  living  a  noble  woman  to  bless  me  with  hei 
love,  strengthen  me  with  hei  aelf-sacrifice,  purify  me  with 
her  sweeter  and  clearer  faith  1  I  will  wait:  but  I  shall  find 
ker!" 


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